InnerMetal
by LuneCramoisie
Summary: It's not about me, The One. It's about us all, The World. One person doesn't matter in the whole scheme of things. It's what we all do together that really counts.
1. Chapter 1

This story has had parts rewritten for better coherency. If you read it a few weeks ago, you should read it again. Well... skim for places that are unfamiliar to you. I didn't know where this story was going when I first started it, but now I have a better idea. "The Blood of Children" is also in the middle of a rewrite. I plan to have it up by the beginning of December.

Author's Note: This is Elena Marcoh, and that's all that you're getting out of me right now. No, she's not going to end up with Ed or Al or any of the main characters. Don't you worry. (Romance really has nothing to do with this story.) She's an odd sort, and I've tried to make her somewhat realistic. She gets hurt, she gets her ass kicked, she does stupid things, she's not always prepared. She's as human as possible. This follows the manga and not the anime, just so you know. The manga is way better than the anime, anyway. And, yes, you guessed right, folks! This story really isn't much about Ed, Al, or even Roy and Riza. It's about two people (who are really one) and their priorities, and how those priorities switch from being themselves to being other people. Think of something bigger than yourself. You are One, and we are the World.

The author's only food is reviews. It's all she eats. You don't want her to STARVE, do you?

The author does not own the universe of FullMetal Alchemist, either. She only owns Elena Marcoh and Spite. The end.

_Begin._

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*A harsh dry wind swept over the landscape. It sucked the moisture from everything it touched, leaving chapped lips and cracked earth. A perfect cerulean sky lay over the red-brown earth, not a single cloud to mar its loveliness.

But all of the beauty was lost on her. "Miss, hurry up!" A voice called from behind her. "It may not look it here, but it's almost winter in Xing. We need to leave before the snows close the mountain passes."

**Hear that, girlie? Better hurry up if you wanna escape.** Her steel teeth ground down in a silent snarl. She turned away from the plateau and the view over the Ishbal it afforded.

"Shut up." she muttered furiously.

**To shut me up you'd need to rip off those Stones, hun. You're not of a wanting to do that, are you? If you do that, you die.** She limped stiffly back down the rocky trail as if every bone ached. She yanked on her burnoose and sand-colored cloak over her ragged uniform to protect her new white skin from the sun. Her eyes watered and burned from the brightness of the sun and sand, but she refused to close them. She _would_ be strong again. Her body- no matter that it was new- was _hers_. Forget her head. She had to share it with that annoying schizophrenic phenomenon that called itself "Spite".

She suddenly tripped, body seizing up involuntarily as she tumbled down the rocky slope, coming to rest with a nasty _crack_ against the side of the caravan. "Miss!" Someone's feet crunched in the rocks as they ran over to see if she was all right. "Missy are you all right?"

Elena heard a _pop_ as her elbow went back into its socket. She saw sparks and the tiny cuts in her body closed up and disappeared. "I'm okay." she said politely, allowing the caravan driver to help her to her feet. But inside she was screaming.

_WHY DIDN'T YOU WARN ME?_ She shrieked as she hopped up onto the driver's seat beside the friendly merchant. _WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME ANYTHING? I'VE STUDIED ALCHEMY! I CAN HANDLE IT!_

**No, you can't.**

_Oh joy. You've got something smart to say now?_

**I've existed since Cain and Abel. You've existed for eighteen years, counting the nine months before you were born. Your body is mine, now.**

_I still control it._

**But for how long? Before you know it, I'll have taken over like a pathogen.**

_You're only schizophrenia. You're a creation of stress from the battlefield._ Something that sounded like a sigh echoed throughout her mind.

**Think what you like. **_**I can wait**_**.**

"So, Missy, have you got family in Xing?" The merchant slapped the backs of his oxen with the reins.

"I think I still do." The traveler sighed through her burnoose. "Think we could make a quick detour through Rush Valley?"

"I dunno, Miss, it's..." but his protests died when a fat wad of cash was procured from an inner pocket. "Of course. We'll have plenty of time."

_I need someone to sort out this damn stiffness._ She settled back into her cloak, closing her eyes wearily. _Thanks a lot, Dad._

_Thanks for damning me._

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_

She never thought that the first time she would be back in Central would be for a funeral.

A lone bugler was giving rise to a good old military farewell. Many people turned out to pay their respects; all of them in uniform save for two.

There was the man's poor wife, handkerchief clutched in one hand while she held a little girl –no older than three- in the other. Tears poured down the woman's face as the ground rose up to bury her husband. "Mama, why are those men burying Papa?" Those people who were near enough to hear the little girl's words shuffled their feet. A few disguised sniffs as coughs.

"Elicia…" the woman began, but her lips were trembling.

"Please, if you bury Papa, he can't go to work!" The little girl was crying, now. She probably didn't understand. Children at that age never did. She would be asking for days where Papa was and why didn't he come home to see her? Then it would have to be explained over and over again because children were wise in that they didn't accept truths that they didn't like. "Papa says Papa always has lots of work-" her mother grabbed her and held her close, shoulders trembling violently.

"Shush, Elicia. Just… don't…"

The bugle's last mournful notes trailed off into the bight sky. Regrets were offered to the widow and soon everyone had gone save for one man.

He took off his military cap and shoved a hand into his pocket, walking right up to the grave. A fresh wreath of flowers lay at the base of the white marble headstone. "You've gained two ranks just by dying in the line of duty. Brigadier General, hn?" he said quietly. "You said you'd support me from below. What're you going to do now that you've gone higher than me? You idiot."

"Do you dislike being the only one stuck at colonel?" He whirled around and took a few quick steps back, unnerved at how the woman seemed to have suddenly materialized beside him.

"General Marcoh," he said by way of greeting.

The woman- a girl with old eyes, really- didn't look at him. She wore a similar dress uniform to the Colonel's, save that she wore the tan overcoat, wrapped blazer, and spats of the Ishbalan campaign. She sported a cap like his; her ink-black ponytail twisted up beneath it. Merry red tear-drops dangled and danced from her earlobes.

"I'm no General," she said vehemently. "Just likes Hughes is no General. Once you're dead, ranks mean nothing." Suddenly, she looked up and gave him a weary smile, dark circles underneath her tired blue eyes. "But I got past Colonel before you, Mustang."

"If you're dead, you shouldn't be here." He turned once again to gaze upon the new grave. It looked so impersonal, so uniform. It looked exactly like every other plot in the soldiers' cemetery.

"Well, technically, I AM here. See? Sixteen rows down and to the left." It was too far away from him to see easily, but he knew it was there. He'd passed it and stopped at it many times before.

"Fine, then. People will wonder why a dead seventeen-year-old Brigadier General is here. You haven't aged at all. That's not fair."

She grinned metallically at the headstone, looking exactly as she had years ago. She hadn't aged at all except for her eyes. They were old.

"I'm actually twenty-four, now. Blame my youthful appearance on good genes and moisturizing."

They stood in respectful silence for a few minutes before Marcoh broke it. "You finally fixed your hair for the occasion, I see."

"If you're not going to accept your rank of Brigadier General you can't carp about my hair."

"Colonel?" He turned around again. It was Lieutenant Hawkeye, overcoat draped over one arm. He could feel the slight breath of wind as the one-time Brigadier General disappeared. "Are you going to come? It's getting cold."

"In a minute." He answered. "You know, we alchemists are horrible people."

"How is that?" Her voice was weary from emotional strain.

"We set laws for what is and is not possible, yet we go ahead anyway. Right now I'm trying my hardest to figure out a formula for human transmutation."

"But it can't be done, Colonel." She looked confused.

"Yes, it can't be done." _No, it can. _The proof had been standing next to him not five seconds ago.

He fixed his hat back on his head, gazing up at the sky, pulling the brim down over his eyes. "It's raining." He said with a small note of surprise in his voice.

"Sir?" The sky was perfectly clear.

"This…" A tear left a silvery trail down his freshly-shaven cheek. "…is rain."

* * *

A/N: You may notice that a sizable chunk of text is missing. That is on purpose, as Elena's character needs to flow better and have some more predictability. She flip-flops too much.


	2. Chapter 2

*Rush Valley was busy as always. Dust from the dry earth created a low haze over the ground as many feet beat against the dirt. People shouted back and forth as they bartered and bargained over automail parts and customers. Automail dealers waved and called out to the young woman in sky-blue. They seemed to be intent on surpassing each other in the volume in which they hawked their automail.

The young woman cut an elegant figure in her long blue skirt and blouse, gaudy red stones dangling from her ears. She glanced up at the sparsely-clouded blue sky, shading her eyes of the same color against the bright sun. She smiled; a slight twitch of her lips that could easily be mistaken for a frown.

She passed by shop after shop, stand after stand, politely refusing automail offers. It'd been two years since she'd been back-- two years since she'd needed any maintenance done. She carefully kept her face in its rigid smile, refusing to let her façade of cool calm fall, though sweat that had nothing to do with the heat spotted her forehead. She had originally planned on only coming for a social visit, but other... _circumstances_ prompted something more serious.

She soon left the town behind, hiking up the mountain paths. Anyone who was not familiar with the territory could get lost, but she'd been doing that same trek for a long time. The red canyon walls loomed on all sides, threatening to push her into the raging river far below. She eyed the water carefully, clutching her shawl tighter at the sight.

She nearly fell after her shoe caught on a rock, but she adjusted and braced herself against the rocks, taking deep breaths and wincing whenever she exhaled. "Kind of wish I could die…" she muttered, wiping her mouth on the back of her sleeve. "Damn bones… damn alchemy… damn automail…." She tried to straighten up but immediately stooped again, cursing.

Finally, she picked up her pace as the sun was just starting to go down. She was dragging her feet by the time she came to an old house/workshop combination and rapped on the door. "Sorry! We're closed for the- Miss Elena!" A man answered the door, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

"Hello, Ridel. Dom home?" The girl asked, pushing past him and leaning against the wall.

"Yes. Dad! It's Miss Elena! Miss Elena, can I get you an-" she staggered away without a backward glance. "-ything. Satera, we have a guest." He went off to find his wife while the girl, Miss Elena found her way to the back room that also served as a forge.

A man, looking to be in his late forties to early fifties, was sitting on a bench by the fire and pounding a piece of metal with a hammer. He looked up briefly. "What do you want, Elena?" he asked grouchily, examining the metal strip he was working on.

"I messed up some of the equipment," Elena said without preamble. "_Badly_." Dominic set down his hammer and stood up, going to wash his hands.

"I'll see you in the work room." He grunted.

"What do you _do _to this stuff? Your entire thoracic region is crushed. I'm surprised you can even move. This would've turned anybody else into a vegetable." Dom-- armed with a set of pliers-- pulled out a long rusty nail that had been wedged between the girl's vertebrae.

"Accident. Don't ever get caught on train-tracks."

"You've got fancy doctors in the West. They could fix you up as well as I could."

"They're not- AGH- automail experts. Watch it! I can feel that, you know." Elena said crossly, arms crossed under her chin as she lay on her belly on the work table.

"This will be a steep bill," The automail-mechanic mused, frowning at the glittering metal beneath his hands.

"You know I always pay. You're the one who replaced that joke of a spine I had before with automail."

"I don't even know why I put up with you."

"Because I pay well and if you told anyone they wouldn't believe you. Yowch!"

"Here, let me take that."

"Miss Elena, you shouldn't be exerting yourself!"

"Neither should you. _I'm _not the one who's pregnant." Satera continued to protest as the blue-eyed girl relieved her of her laundry basket and continued to limp stiffly out the front door to the side yard.

Elena held a few clothespins in her mouth as she tossed a wet sheet over the clothesline stretched taught from a pole to the side of the house. She winced when she raised her arms to high, but otherwise ignored the discomfort. Satera-- a pretty blonde woman who was married to Dominic's son, Ridel-- continued to fuss. "You're doing it again, Elena. Stop it." Satera squeaked and spun around. She hadn't heard her father-in-law come up behind her.

"You can't order me around, Dom," Elena grunted as her stiff joints loosened up with increased movement.

"I can as your mechanic. You're putting too much strain on your bones already! There's nothing automail _or _alchemy can do for you if you permanently damage one of your nerves."

"I've been worse off. Ooooooh, that smarts. I've got to phone the Colonel and tell him I won't be reachable for a week. Oh, _don't _look at me like that, Dominic." Satera went back inside, glancing over her shoulder as Elena continued to speak. "I've survived worse than this _without_ you worrying over me."

The old man yanked the laundry basket from the girl's grip, fixing her with a hard look. "You could be my daughter-"

"Funny. I'm not."

"-but since you're not, I can't make you do anything you don't want to. But your bones can."

Elena opened and closed her mouth soundlessly, indignant. "I beg your par-!" She made a noise like a mouse being stepped on and fell to the ground, rigid as a board.

"Your joints lock if you put too much pressure on them." He left her there lying on the ground, staring up at the sky.

"Damn." She grumbled, grinding her teeth and wincing at the harsh metal-on-metal screech. _Well, might as well make myself comfortable._ She shifted slightly so that not so much weight was put on her injured spine. She sighed gustily. _So, Dad..._ she mused grumpily. _Thanks for botching the job the first time. Not only did that new spine warrant a steep bill, it also chafes like you woudn't believe._

"Taking a nap, huh?" She blinked and turned her head.

"Paninya, how are you?" The dark-skinned girl leaned over her, curious.

"I'm fine. Are _you _okay lying out here?"

"Urgh. Yes. Here, help me up." Her joints creaked and squealed as she stood up. She winced and stretched her stiff back. "I'm always so stiff after tune-ups."

"Goes to show, with your whole back being automail and all." Paninya pointed out. "Can you walk?"

"I'll be fine. Hold on a second, will you?" The girl gripped Elena's wrist tightly as Elena kept on walking. There were a few sharp pops and she sighed with relief. "That's better. Ooooh, I'm sorry." Paninya dropped her arm, looking ill and wiping her hands on her baggy trousers. "Doesn't feel nice, does it?"

She went back inside, groaning and crabbing as she went and randomly hopping up and down to loosen her joints. "I don't even see how Dom makes any money," she said loudly, pushing open the door into the front entryway. "If he's so sloppy as to- oh. Guests." She blinked at the three people – two blonds and a big man in armor-- standing there. Satera made a face at her.

"Put something more presentable on, please," she said, sighing. Elena looked down.

"I'm perfectly dressed, thank you very much!" she said indignantly.

"And what's all that dust and red gunk on your shirt? No, don't turn around. I don't want to see your back. Please go change, Miss Elena."

Grumbling, she went away without a further word leaving Paninya and Satera with the newcomers. "My shirt is perfectly fi- oh. Eww." She slipped off the white undershirt and saw the dirt and bloodstains coating the ripped and torn back. "Ummm… okay. I have other clothes…?" she noticed the stack of freshly laundered garments on the cot she occupied in the corner of the workroom where she stayed when she was there. "Oh. Thank you, Satera." She chose a fresh white button-down shirt and dusted down her trousers (being too lazy to change) and tucked in her shirt, straightening her hair with the help of a bedraggled comb.

"Reporting for duty, Sir!" Elena barked, throwing a smart salute in the blurry reflection of a sheet of metal propped against one wall as a mirror in the tiny guest room. Elena retied her ponytail, stepped into her boots, and went out to where she could smell good things coming from the kitchen. The guests were already seated and chatting, one blonde girl happily discussing automail with Dom while Paninya looked bored. "Satera…" Elena relieved Satera of the trey of tea and mugs. "You're doing it again."

"And so are you, Miss Elena," the pregnant woman answered, lips pursed in annoyance. "Not even a day off the table-"

"Elena Marcoh?" they both looked at the other blond, a young man maybe Elena's age. He was staring at her as if he didn't know quite what to make of her, amber eyes puzzled. "You're Lieutenant Colonel Elena Marcoh, right?"

"Who?" Elena answered waspishly, setting down the trey on the table. "Oi, armor-guy. Budge up a bit, will you?"

"Elena Marcoh-- posthumous brigadier general-- born in Xing, became the 'Iron Fist' state alchemist at the age of fourteen, promoted to Lieutenant Colonel at age sixteen. Daughter of Doctor Timothy Marcoh, died at age seventeen when accosting Zolf J. Kimbley the Crimson Alchemist." he rattled off airily as if he didn't care at all, twirling his mug and waving a manila folder lazily. The kitchen grew very tense as all turned to watch.

Elena straightened, looking down her nose at the youth. He looked back up at her, peeved at her height. "Who are you?" she asked, but mentally she was running through the list of people who might know who she was. _Lessee. Braided blond hair, yellow eyes, SHORT, the giant suit of armor…_ she eyed the figure in armor who shuffled his feet almost as if he were embarrassed.

Her eyes snapped to the youth who grinned at her lazily. "Oh. You're that Fullmetal Shorty Mustang used to get a promotion, hmmm? What do you want with me?"

"WHO'S SO SHORT THAT HE CAN'T BE SEEN EVEN UNDER A MAGNIFYING GLASS?" Ed bellowed, but the suit of armor kept a firm grip on his collar.

"Brother, please!" The voice issuing from the visor of the suit of armor was surprisingly young.

"Edward and Alphonse Elric, right?" Elena sat down after drawing up a chair. She rested her elbows on the table and glared at the Elrics. "What. Do. You. Want?" They glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, but everyone else had gravitated to the smaller table and were nattering away. Edward, the shorty and supposedly the older brother, tilted back on two legs of his chair.

"Colonel Mustang has officially ordered you back to Central. We don't like being messengers but…" The brothers exchanged looks. "He said that you might know about human transmutation and the Philosopher's Stone." Elena choked on her sip of tea, wheezing as it went down the wrong pipe.

"The what now? It doesn't exist. Where would you get that idea?" she hissed, glancing over her shoulder at the others.

Edward emptied the manila folder onto the folder. Among its contents was an old death certificate complete with a black-and-white photo of someone named "Lt. Colonel Elena Marcoh. Posthumously Brigadier General Elena Marcoh". The photo was of young woman smirking at the photographer. There was something of Xing in her face with her narrow eyes and thin mouth. Her hair was back in a ponytail and she wore the uniform and stars of a Lieutenant Colonel. The death-date followed some seventeen years after the birth-date.

There was another photograph under it of a burnt and blackened corpse. It was the mandatory proof-of-death photo along with a note from the coroner.

Elena took the death certificate and looked it over before carefully folding it up again and pushing it back across the table. "I stopped being a Lieutenant Colonel at the end of the Ishbal civil war. I can't possibly be of any use to you," she said quietly. "Human transmutation? Are you mad?" She shifted uncomfortably, hands clenched around her mug. "Bad things happen when you try to transmute people." She added darkly.

"But you did it," that was the suit of armor, Alphonse. "Lieutenant Colonel, you transmuted yourse-"

"Shut up!" she hissed. "Not so loudly you idiot! I didn't transmute myself. Someone else did."

"Doctor Tim Marcoh?" Edward breathed. Elena gritted her teeth.

"You know him." It wasn't a question.

"We went to him first about the stone," Alphonse explained, somewhat apologetically. "But he warned us away from it."

"With good reason!" Elena exclaimed. "You stay _away_ from that stuff. Why would you want it, anyway? Immortality? Great power? It will only end in your ruin be it death or madness."

"We only want information," Edward said through gritted teeth, hands fisted on the table. "Just tell us what you know."

"_Why?_"

The brothers fell silent. Elena could hear the elder one grinding his teeth. Slowly, she reached out and gently rapped her knuckles against Alphonse's armored hand. "Could it have anything to do with your brother being hollow?" she inquired softly. "How's about this: You tell me why you want to know about the Stone, and then I tell what I know. AND you tell me why you're so fascinated about human transmutation and I'll tell you what I know about _that _as well." If there was one thing an alchemist couldn't resist, it was the bait of knowledge.

"I could get court-marshaled for this and Al would end up in a lab." Edward growled. Elena raised her eyebrows at him mildly.

"And I could get stuck in the slammer for sixty years for dereliction of duty as I AM legally dead. Or I could be executed, come to think of it. Want to shake on it and make a deal?" Elena held out her hand. Ed grasped it with only light hesitation. He was surprised by her strong grip that threatened to crush his steel fingers. A tense moment followed before they released their death-grips.

"Deal."

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A/N: I no longer fear this chapter. Praise the lord. It used to be physically painful for me to read.


	3. Chapter 3

*She listened to their -highly edited, she suspected- story without comment. The people at the other table seemed to be in their own world, Dom and the girl, Winry Rockbell were comparing the ups and downs of making automail lighter but retaining its same strength. Satera had gone off to take a nap, Paninya had gone wherever Paninya usually went, and Ridel was cleaning the shop.

"So… you tried human transmutation?" she said at long last when they were done. Ed looked down at his lap, mouth a grim line. "It's perfectly understandable." He looked up quickly, Alphonse leaving off from tracing the grain in the wood of the table.

"What?"

"It's perfectly understandable if you wanted to bring someone back." Elena repeated softly, chin resting on her hands. She was busily adding variables and random scenarios to their story, seeing if everyone checked out. There were a few gaps that the two hadn't bothered to fill, but it didn't matter much.

"You're… not going to chew us out for human transmutation?" Ed asked suspiciously. He ran his fingers over his right hand, burnishing a bright spot in the tarnished automail. Elena gave him a small smile.

"No one wants their loved ones to die. And that leads me into my end of the bargain, hmm? I guess I'll start at the beginning." She sighed gustily and shifted in her seat. She took a deep breath and- "That shall have to wait for another time."

"WHAT?" Ed shouted. "How is that fair? We upheld our end of the bargain! It's equal exchange!"

"I'll still tell you," Elena told him smugly. "But not now. I don't trust you much, FullMetal. Hardly at all."

"That's-"

"Ed!" Winry called, waving at him. She had a wrench in one hand and she looked strangely eager.

"Uh oh."

"Lighter automail wouldn't make him so short," Dom commented ten minutes later as Winry showed off Ed's prosthetic arm and leg. He was about to leap up and protest of the use of his least favorite adjective but Winry forced him back down.

"Just what I thought," she said. "But I don't want to make it light enough to weaken it. Ed puts a lot of stress on his hardware."

"Hmm… you tried using pure carbon? Up north they have lighter automail that's stronger. There's a thin, diamond-hard carbon shell around the most important gears and the outer sheath." Elena suggested.

"You're forgetting that people up north are ten kinds of crazy. There's nothing wrong with being under-sized, Elric." Dom grunted. This was strange, as he was quite a tall and beefy man. "Just look at Elena."

"I'm not under-sized, thank you very much," Elena answered waspishly. "My mother's from Xing, the land of Petite People. I'd like to see you stand up to one of the little old martial arts sages. They're tiny, but good god they're fearsome."

* * *

It was later, nearing ten o'clock at night, when Elena heard a crash. She'd been sparring with Alphonse Elric-- who turned out to be surprisingly swift for his size. It was followed by a loud groan and an alarmed shout. "Satera?!" Elena skidded into the kitchen in her bare feet, looking panicked. Satera was on her knees, a broken trey lying on the floor beside her as she hugged her belly. Elena felt a lead weight drop into her stomach while Ridel bent down by his wife.

"DOM?" Elena called over her shoulder. Alphonse Elric came running up beside her.

"Don't shout. I'm right here. Wha-" The big man looked around him in dumbfounded shock, the cogs slowly working in his brain as Paninya gave a high-pitched scream and went running for Winry.

"Would you mind getting the doctor?" Thunder crashed and boomed outside. "Quickly?"

"Wha-"

"Sorry, but your daughter-in-law is going into labor and unless Mister Elric can transmute one of us into a doctor, this is going to be troublesome."

Dom and Paninya went into a panic. Ridel nearly passed out on the spot. Winry came clattering into the room just as Ed and Al were helping Satera to her feet. "Lieutenant Colonel? What's going on?"

"Don't call me Lieutenant Colonel!" Elena snapped, the hackles standing up on the back of her neck. "Your parents were surgeons, right?" Winry blinked, taken aback.

"Yes but how did you-"

"Probably left medical books lying around like toys when you were little, hmm? Do you know the basic theory of how to deliver a baby?" Winry turned an ashen gray.

"I'll go get the doctor! You stay here and keep Satera comfortable." Dom grabbed a poncho and was out the door in a moment… and back within that self-same instant. "The bridge is out." Needless to say, the mood in that room swiftly plummeted.

"Wait! I can transmute it!" Ed seemed to suddenly remember what his government funding was for. He ran outside. Dom, Al, and Elena were right on his heels while Winry and Ridel got Satera to her bed.

The rain was driven sideways by the force of the wind, the lightning a nearly constant thing. Ed was almost knocked flat by the force of the gale but Elena caught him by the belt as she stood firm. "Go and do what you get paid for, Elric." She growled. He clapped his hands and planted them on the ground at the edge of the cliff where the rickety rope-bridge had been.

Rock started to grow seamlessly out of the cliff-face and reach out toward the opposite side before it cracked and then fell into the storm-fed river raging below. "Why didn't it work?" Dom shouted over the thunder.

"It's equal exchange!" Elena yelled back. "Maybe if you added supports, Elric-"

"No! The supports would be washed away by the river before I could get them firmly in place! There's not enough material to use, here, either." Ed looked disappointed and angry. "What's the point of being an alchemist if I can't help?"

They went back inside to find Paninya clutching the doorway for support. "The water… it just came _out _of her!" she gibbered, horrified.

"Her water broke," Elena clarified in a flat voice. Paninya and Dom nearly fainted.

"Well, you're grandchild isn't waiting, Dominic!" Ed said weakly.

"Is there another way into town?" Al asked, tinny voice nervous.

"Yes, but it takes-"

"Just go! Hurry!" Winry came running in, wrapping an apron about her waist.

"Lieutenant, do you have any-"

"I'M NOT A FREAKING LIEUTENANT!" Elena shouted, and then continued on in a quieter voice, "And no. If you were about to say 'any experience with babies' you are so far out of the field it isn't even funny."

"You can do it, Winry!" Ed said vehemently. "You can!"

"But-"

"Winry, out of everyone here, I think you have the most experience." Al said frankly as Dom hurried off again.

The blonde girl took a deep, steadying breath as she tried to calm her nerves. "Fine, then. Ed, Al! I need boiled water."

"How much?"

"Lots! And Lieu-"

"I swear to god if you call me 'Lieutenant' again I am beating some sense into that thick skull of yours."

"-Elena. I need towels. Lots and lots of towels. Paninya, come with me." She dragged Paninya off into the birthing room and slammed the door shut while the remaining three ran off to do her bidding.

The hours seemed to drag on and on into the night as the rain still lashed the world. Agonized screams would occasionally emit from the closed door, growing in intensity and frequency as the night wore on. Ed and Al sat against the door, Ed with his hands pressed to his ears and a tense look on his face. Elena, amazingly, was the calmest of the lot, playing with a switchblade and whistling a jaunty tune.

"Miz Marcoh?" She looked up. Ed was still trying to ignore the world, but Al had turned his metal head to the slim girl. It was hard to hear over the screaming and thunder.

"Just… Elena's fine, Elric."

"Then please call me Al."

"All right, Al. What can I do for you?"

"How did you know that Winry's parents were surgeons?"

The knife Elena had been playing with thudded into the floor. She worked the blade out of the wood, glowering. "Curiosity killed the cat, Al."

"But satisfaction brought it back, Elena."

"You sure ask tough questions right off the bat."

"I don't sleep. I have plenty of time to think them up." Elena looked at the boy, focusing on the points of light that glimmered through the helmet's visor. She frowned deeply.

"I knew of Mr. and Mrs. Rockbell when I was serving in Ishbal. I'd even met them, once, on an espionage mission."

"You were in the East Area War?" Al looked shocked. "They let children-"

"I'm older than I look, Al. I was not a child then. I was seventeen and old enough to make my own choices. I knew the Rockbells to be good, decent people doing good, decent work."

"You knew Winry's parents?" He seemed thoughtful, almost in awe. Elena got a feeling of just how young the boy and his brother were. _When I was that age, I'd made it to State Alchemist already and was working on my marksmanship. _She thought dryly, but without humor. _AND I was already slicing and dicing Ishbalans in the war._

"I knew them in passing." She answered, and winced as a particularly loud scream permeated the storm. "Yeesh. I didn't think giving birth hurt so much."

Suddenly, the door opened with a bang and Paninya fell out, scrabbling to get as far away from the room as possible. She crawled a few steps then made a small whimpering noise. "Paninya!" Al was on his feet in an instant, Elena and Ed hurrying inside, preparing themselves for the horror within.

But it was just Winry sitting on the floor, panting, while a perfect little person rested in Ridel's hands. The screaming had subsided to be replaced by the thin wail of the newborn. "Everything's okay…" Ed said faintly, as if he could hardly believe it. Satera looked exhausted but happy as Elena gave her a salute. "And you had us so worried, Paninya!" Ed called as Al tried to get the dark-skinned girl to her feet.

"The blood…" she moaned. "I can't stand the sight of blood."

"There's not that much of it," Elena said dubiously, eyeing the room. "Down right sanitary, if you ask me. I've lost twice as much from a papercut. Congratulations, Satera." Elena felt her own mouth widening at Satera's and Ridel's beaming smiles.

Winry tugged on Elena's pant-leg from her seat on the floor. "Hm?" Elena looked down. "Rockbell? You did fine. The mother's fine, the babe's fine, everything's fine. What's the matter? You don't like blood either?"

"It's not that…" Winry said. She looked up, perspiration gleaming on her face. She smiled tiredly. "My legs collapsed out of relief and I don't seem to be able to get up again."

"Pfft. Well, c'mon then, Doctor Rockbell!" Elena and Ed pulled the blonde to her feet, smiling for absolutely no reason at all other than relief. "Pretty soon I could see you sewing up idiots on the battlefield." _And hopefully you won't meet the same end your parents did._

_

* * *

  
_

A/N: This chapter still bugs me a bit. Until I can find a better idea of how Ed explains to Elena about the situation, it shall remain as is.


	4. Chapter 4

*The next day, Elena made a call.

"Central Military Headquarters. How may I direct your call?"

"One Miss Emily Polo to speak to Colonel Roy Mustang," Elena said brightly into the ear piece, glancing around the hallway. Everyone else was rejoicing since Dominic had returned with the doctor. She leaned against the wall and half-covered her mouth with one hand.

"Colonel Mustang is in a meeting right now. May I take a message?" The receptionist was uncommonly polite. In Elena's day, the secretaries were pissed-off combat rejects.

"Please tell Colonel Mustang that Miss Emily will tear him a New One unless he gets on the god damned phone right now." She said sweetly. "Sweetheart, he _wants _to be dragged out of that meeting of his right this moment." The receptionist made a distressed sound into the phone and said, "Please wait, Miss Polo."

There followed five minutes of silence before a playful voice on the other end said, "Emily, you naughty, ravishing-"

"Oh, you shouldn't.~" Elena crooned demurely into the phone, fluttering her eyelashes.

"You missed me enough to call me at work?" Elena made a face that would have melted steel. She took a deep, fortifying breath before launching into a high-pitched, bouncy voice.

"Oh, Colonel Mustang, you know I can't keep away." She could almost hear the little pink hearts floating around her head.

"Oh, really?" There was a chuckle that had Elena grinding her teeth. "How's your holiday been, Emily?"

"I think I might stay another week. I had no idea I was stiff! I was thinking we could cure that next time I'm in Central, though.~"

"I look forward to it."

"By the way, I ran into Edith and Alison." She smirked when she heard the sharp intake of breath on the other end. "I had no idea they were so interested in health spas! Their childhood friend came with them. She's a sweet girl. She's interested in the methods of restoration they use here."

"Ah. Where are they off to next, Missy Emily?"

"Oh, it's not really my place to say, Colonel." She said innocently, pouting prettily. "But they said something about Dublith."

"Then why don't you go with them? It should be nice down there this time of year."

"Oh, but Colonel, I couldn't possibly-"

"I trust your pretty little head to keep them in check." Ooh. She could hear his smug grin and the way he twined his fingers through the telephone cord. If only he would electrocute himself with it….

"But-" she had to head off his dangerous line of thought _fast_.

"Nonsense! Emily, I'm sure you can keep them out of trouble. I hear Dublith is a dangerous place for Children who don't know their way around. I'll talk to you in a week, shall I? Call me when you get there!"

"Okay. Good-bye, Colonel!"

"Good-bye, Em-"

-click-

Elena set the phone down delicately in its cradle-

-before slamming her fist into the adobe wall, seething. That _insufferable_ man! "I'll kill him." She snarled quietly. "Kill him, kill him, kill him."

"Kill who?" Was that stupid FullMetal brat always so _nosy_?

"It's your lucky day, kid!" Elena said with a sharky grin. "I'm coming with you to… Dublith, was it?"

"Who invited _you_?" he said immediately, giving her what he obviously thought was a contemptuous glare. She gave it back to him in spades.

"Orders, youngster, orders." She told him airily, waving her hand rudely and turning to walk away.

"Hey, you can't just talk to me like a little kid!" Oh boy. He was getting angry now. "If you don't tell me who 'ordered' you, I'll-"

"You'll _what_?" She was faster than he had expected. She grabbed him by the front of his shirt at lightning speed and dragged him towards her to snarl into his face. "You'll alchemify me, hmm? I'm not in the mood for games so you'd better just accept my help nice and quiet-like. There are more than enough people out there who'd like your intestines on a stick without _you _making trouble for _me_. I have orders, okay? Orders. Let's leave it at that. I don't like it and neither do you, but I sure as heck am-"

Ed tuned her out. He was used to hot-tempered females. At first he had been bent on saying something extremely rude and teaching her a lesson for ever laying a paw on him. But then, merely an inch between their noses, his eyes were caught by a glittering red object. He could see one of her earrings up close and it danced and swung from her ear. It was a bright red tear-drop made of some translucent stone that refracted the light. He thought it looked vaguely familiar but he couldn't place it. It nagged at him like a sore, like he should _know…._

"Okay." He said vacantly. Elena opened her mouth to utter a sharp retort but stopped up short. She let go of him.

"What?"

"Yeah, sure, come with Al and me to Dublith." He said blithely. "We're visiting our teacher."

"Oh… sure. I'll show you the way out of here, then." She said suspiciously. He waved, plastering a big fake smile on his face.

"You do that. We're leaving in an hour, all right?"

* * *

"Oh no! The train's leaving!"

"Brother, _run_!"

"My god you two are slow."

The three travelers plus Winry and Paninya ran after the train as it left the station with much whistling and steam-blowing. Elena vaulted herself with a burst of incredible speed over the railing of the caboose, startling the station assistant. "Bye Ed, bye Al, bye Elena!" Winry called. "Elena, make sure Ed doesn't break his automail!"

"Will do!" Elena waved jauntily, jet ponytail fluttering wildly in the wind like a flag. "Bye!" Paninya and Winry had to stop as the train platform came to an end, Ed and Al only just making it onboard in time.

The three finally found an empty cabin and settled down for the next few hours, Ed looking out the window and Elena paging through a thick book. "Why are you helping us?" Turned out Ed and Al had been staring at her for the past twenty minutes. She didn't look up from her book.

"I told you. Orders."

"Orders from who?"

She shut her book with a vicious snap and turned to Al, completely ignoring Ed. "Would you be a dear and do some transmuting for me? There should be no gaps in the door or walls and an inch of packed cotton between the walls." He shrugged and produced a stick of chalk and promptly began drawing signs. "We can rub them off later. I'm not talking until it's secure." Elena said coolly, wrestling with the catch on the window and opening it halfway to let in air. When the compartment was secure and with the wind partially drowning out their words, Ed leaned back, arms crossed over his chest.

Elena pretended to not see the two of them for a few minutes before saying abruptly, "Mustang."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Roy Mustang. I assume you know him. Finding you got him his current rank." Ed sputtered incoherently for a little bit while Al exclaimed, "Colonel Mustang!"

"He and I served in the Ishbalan Campaign." She snickered. "Hah. I still outrank him."

"Outrank him? How old are you, anyway?" Ed gave her that contemptuous look again but she ignored him and answered with a smug grin.

"Twenty-four." He made a small noise of misery and banged his head against the wall. "I _do _look good, don't I? Not a day over seventeen, I'm told." She wallowed in his unhappiness at the unfairness of her youthful appearance before going on.

"Then why did you leave?" That was Al. Once again, Elena was shocked at his quiet yet pointy questions.

"I… didn't agree with orders." She said, shrugging.

"So you faked your death and ran?"

"Yup. I've been hiding for about seven years now."

"But you can still be ordered by the Colonel? I thought you said you outranked him?" Ed asked suspiciously.

Elena glowered. "I'm a Brigadier General when dead, but right now I'm alive so I'm only a Lieutenant Colonel. He can order me around if he likes. I saved his ass, he saved mine. We're dead even."

"You were a State Alchemist, right?" Ed pressed. "Your papers called you the 'Iron-Fist Alchemist'." Elena's eyes softened at the memory.

"Yes. I was fourteen. I was the youngest State Alchemist on record until you came along. God only knows WHY I got to that rank so young. My Father's connections, undoubtedly. The higher-ups had plans for me I'm sure. But I haven't been able to use alchemy at all for seven years.

"Now shut up. I want to finish my book."

* * *

A/N: She can't use alchemy here. Remember that.


	5. Chapter 5

*Dublith was much bigger than Resembool, but still smaller than Central. The Elric brothers seemed to know their way around pretty well, and even waved to the stationmaster who waved back. "Who is your teacher?" Elena asked curiously, hands shoved into her pockets. She wore trousers and boots along with a crisp white shirt like any other boy her age. She found men's clothes to be more convenient than a dress. That, and she got the feeling she would have to be able to move quickly sooner or later.

"Izumi Curtis," Ed said, staring straight ahead. Perspiration dotted his neck and face and he looked like his teeth hurt. "She's amazing. No one can beat Master. But…"

"She'll kill us." Moaned Al, whose sentiments his elder brother seemed to share, judging by his expression.

"Izumi Curtis?" Elena repeated, rucksack slung over her shoulder. "Oh, _ouch_. I heard she survived a month up near Briggs. She's one tough woman." As they were leaving the station, hands reached out of an alley and grabbed the brunette by the ponytail, yanking her back into the shadows.

She didn't take kindly to that, of course. She twisted like a snake, using her flexibility to her advantage. She whipped around, hand still gripping her assailants wrist. He was gigantic and he leered at her with… crocodile teeth? "Hey there, pretty girlie." He said, drooling and staring at her hungrily. "Boss wants a word with you." Her fist was about to land solidly right in his alligator teeth but he opened them just in time-

-and chomped down on her wrist. She snarled and looked around for Ed and Al but they were already out of sight, just turning the corner and still talking like she was there. Oh, if boys were only more _sensitive!_

The pain wasn't that bad. She'd sustained far worse. The disgusting thing was that her blood spurted out and coated the monster's teeth and he grinned all the more. "You're tasty, girlie. I _love _tasty girlies!"

"Chimera?" she asked without preamble, pulling a black leather glove onto her free hand with her teeth. No way could his strength and appearance be natural. She didn't want to risk further damaging her stiff joints –she didn't want to have to go back to Rush Valley so soon- and she was out of practice. Two already bad things that made one very, very bad combination. She was still achy from her last tune-up and her ribs protested when the chimera's gigantic hand shot out and grabbed her about the middle, pinning her arms to her side and squeezing the breath from her lungs. He grinned at somebody past her.

"Hold it, Ulchi." A harsh voice said from behind her.

"So, Dorchette, is this sexy little lady the one Boss wants?"

"Only one way to find out." There was the faint sound of a blade being drawn and _shink_. She stared at the tip of the blade protruding from her collarbone.

"_Bastard!_" she ground out, blood burbling from between her clenched teeth and beginning to fill her lungs_._ "Do whatever you want! I'm not going…. Baaaaaagh…" speech became impossible, and so did breathing.

"Aw, Dorchette. You overdid it." The voices were fading out as everything became dark and fuzzy.

"Shaddup. She's fine. Take her back to the boss…." She flopped over limply as the blade was withdrawn. The crocodile chimera, Ulchi, easily slung her over one arm like he would a coat.

"C'mon, missy. Mister Greed wants a word."

* * *

When she awoke, she smelled the dank scent that all underground rooms shared. Steel-cored ropes chafed her arms and cut off the circulation in her legs and torso. She blinked as the world slowly came into focus. She was in some sort of large, concrete room like a cellar or basement. She saw pipes jutting out of the walls and ceiling that were probably a heating-cooling system. They looked more like rusty intestines to her. And there were odd stains on the floor and walls as well, telling of dark deeds.

But, hey. She'd spent a week in a godforsaken foxhole with crazy Ishabalans attacking on all sides. Where she was at the moment was _paradise _compared to the usual. Then she became aware of someone staring at her. A young woman, maybe in her twenties, was playing with a knife about ten feet away. She bore a strange snaky tattoo on the right side of her neck that spread over her shoulder.

"You don't look so tough." She said roughly, sizing up her captive.

"Then untie me and I'll show you." Elena said sweetly while she did a sweep of all the exits. Not good. A single door about twenty feet away.

"It's Lieutenant Colonel Marcoh, right?" the woman asked, pairing her nails with her knife. Elena froze.

"I don't know who you're talking about." She whined, acting hurt and confused. "Please, you have the wrong perso-" the knife thudded right into the center of her chest. "What the hell was that for?" she cried.

"Huh. So Mr. Greed was right. You _do_ heal."

"You weren't sure of that and you just stabbed me through the heart?" Elena bellowed. "WHAT THE HELL KIND OF LOGIC IS THAT?"

"Ah. You're awake." The door opened, revealing a tall man flanked by a few tough-looking coves. The man was tall and good-looking, wearing a tiny pair of dark sunglasses (that made him look like a pimp in Elena's opinion). He seemed to share the same love of leather pants that Edward had. A fur-trimmed vest completed his outfit (and further strengthened his impression of pimp-ness). Elena's eyes immediately moved to the tattoo of the Ouroborous on his left hand.

"Homunculus." She breathed. He appeared to look offended.

"Come now, darlin'. Don't say it like it's a bad thing. The name's Greed. Let's be friends."

"This is an interesting way you make friends." She said lightly, but her pale blue eyes were chips of ice. "_Let me go_."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Elena. Mind if I call you Elena? Has a much friendlier ring to it than 'Lieutenant Colonel Marcoh'. Or… should I just call you '_Spite_'?" he said with a nasty, leering grin that exposed all of his sharky teeth.

"How would you know?" she asked quietly, looking down so that her bangs hid her face. She was searching for her pocketknife. She heard the sound of a blade being unsheathed and looked up. The same woman was grinning at her cheekily, displaying all of the knives she had taken from Elena's person.

"Looking for these?" she asked sweetly. Elena counted them and swore, recognizing the entirety of her collection. So sloppy! She couldn't believe it.

"I have ears all over the place, Elena," Greed went on, waving his hand airily. He came to sit on his heels right in front of her, placing a finger on the base of the handle of the knife that still protruded from her chest. He exerted the slightest pressure on it, forcing it deeper and making Elena stifle a gasp. "You've got a high pain thresh-hold. I'm impressed. But what I'm more impressed with is your pretty little earrings…" he fondled them and she winced away from his touch. "A present from your father, weren't they? They help you heal, keep you alive… they make you like me. But I think you're even more special than me, don't you? You have ties to who made you like this, ties to who can make you _permanent_." He breathed into her ear. "Where is Tim Marcoh? If he can bring his dearest little daughter back to life, I'm sure he can make me _immortal_."

"Piss off." She snarled quietly, hands fisted behind her back in their binding. She was nearly crying out of helpless fury. She hadn't been tied up in years and to demand something like _immortality…_. "Kill me. I'm not taking you to him. I haven't seen him in years." She gave him a death glare as he stepped back. He motioned to the woman.

"Martel, I think this little Christmas Tree needs another ornament." A second knife whizzed out and pinned her to the wall through her shoulder. She grunted in pain but was otherwise silent. Greed waved his hand and soon his captive was a pincushion.

Elena finally raised her head and chuckled, grinning through bloody teeth. "Is that all ya got?"

* * *

Author's note: There are many different ways to spell "Dorchette". This only adds to my frustration. And when I have something to update, it will always be on Sundays unless otherwise stated.


	6. Chapter 6

*"Whoa. You really are like Mr. Greed." It was five days later, the only thing bothering Elena being extreme boredom and the three hours every day they spent questioning her. Sure, her mouth was a little dry and her stomach was a little empty, but other than that and being tied up, she was just fine and dandy.

"You're only just learning that now?" Elena asked, severely pissed. "How long's it been? Five… six days? And you keep stickin' me like a got-danged pincushion! I'm not some freakin' dart board ya savage!"

"Yeesh. Language." It was the dog/man chimera, Dorchette, on guard duty that day. He had eyes that nearly matched her own in intensity. "I wouldn't expect that of a general." She groaned wearily in response.

"I'm getting tired of asking 'how do you know'."

"I was blown apart in the South Border War. I woke up in a lab after getting spliced with a freakin' dog. The higher-ups talked about you a bit. Plus, your grave is right next to my uncle's. He died in Ishbal."

"Oh. He was a captain, wasn't he? He was in my platoon. Nice guy. Good at poker. I had to order him to stop playing because he'd beat everyone out of their emergency rations."

"Yup. Sounds like him." Dorchette said wearily, sword held lazily in the crook of one arm while he sat cross-legged on a stack of crates. Then he smoothed his face into an expression of contempt and said, gruffly, "Tell me about Ishbal."

Elena grinned at him crookedly, cocking her head. "Awwwwwwww. The scawy chimewa wants ta hear a war stowy!"

"Shut up!"

"Aw, c'mon. You know it's cute. Chimeras are supposed to be big and scary, like that croc guy Ulchi, and… Loa, was it?"

"And homunculi are supposed to be freaks of nature. Shut up and talk."

"That's an oxymoron, sweetheart."

"I swear, if you don't stop that, I'll-"

"Oh hush. I'll tell you." Elena pouted just to infuriate him. "Well, you know the beginning. But lemme tell you about the time I got promoted to lieutenant colonel and your uncle Feros got to master sergeant. But first, c'mere. I can't talk with this damn knife in my neck." She said with a grimace, looking down at the knife handle protruding from her windpipe.

Dorchette gave her a cautious look and his nose twitched, smelling a trick. But he _really_ wanted to hear that story, and Mr. Greed said that the ropes should hold her….

Quickly, carefully, he closed the distance between himself and the tightly bound captive and drew the knife out of her throat. He sat back on his heels. "Better?"

"Yep. Thanks." Her feet smashed into his chin, knocking him over backwards. He fell, sword clattering out across the floor and out of his grasp. Elena wrenched the remaining blades out of her body with her teeth and lunged for the sword. Dorchette was on his feet in a moment, going after his weapon as well. But Elena had him down as she kicked his legs out from under him. She stood up, stretching creaky joints and untying her ankles, having wriggled out of the bindings on her wrists.

"So, Dorchette," She leveled the blade at his throat, wiping blood from her mouth and grinning crookedly at him. Porcelain caps fell to reveal steel carnassials. "Going to howl like the little pup you are?"

"Bitch!" he snarled, eyes flickering wildly as he searched for an opening. She didn't give him one. He was out cold in a second having the heavy butt of a knife right between the eyes.

"Thanks for loosening my old joints," she said politely to his still form. "You have no idea how stiff I was before." She left his sword, being unfamiliar with a long blade. Instead, she collected all of her knives and quietly opened the door. No one was around. How odd. Suddenly, she caught the sound of machinegun fire and screams of pain. They came from over her head where she presumed the ground floor was.

_I know that caliber…_she realized, slowly. _It's the military!_ That was worse than a horde of rabid chimeras. The tramp of heavy boots reverberated through the concrete, along with muffled orders. Oaths of defiance at first came thick and fast before they petered out into silence.

She looked around wildly before turning around and finding a very pissed chimera glaring at her with a sword pricking the skin under her jaw. "I can give you one amazingly good reason not to kill me right now." She said, speaking quickly.

"Oh yeah?" he responded through gritted teeth. He pressed ever so slightly on her jugular. "And what might that be?"

"The military is here."

He looked up at the sound of more gunfire. He was quivering with energy like a psychotic terrier. "Get lost. Go to your little friends." He spat.

"Do you have any idea what they'll do to me if they catch me? Or if they catch you, for hat matter?" Elena yelled, a note of hysteria rising in her voice. She grabbed him by the front of his shirt and shook him. "Labs, Dorchette! Laboratories and scientists performing all manner of painful tests! Injecting you with dyes and poisons, and in the end taking you apart just to see how you tick."

"Hey! Hands off the merchandise!"

"I'm bullet-proof. Gunfire doesn't matter to me. But it does to you and you know the way out of here. Not one single bullet will hit you but you need to get us out of here." They stared at each other fiercely for a moment, silently daring the other to back down.

"Fine." He brushed her hands off and jerked his thumb down the hall. He didn't look happy at their new partnership. "This way."

They rounded a corner and ran into a few of Greed's men. "Dorchette! Fuhrer King Bradley is here!" One said in a choked whisper, holding a hand to an ugly slash in his side. His companion had a cut that dripped blood in his eyes.

"He gave the go-ahead to kill all of the Ishbalans." Elena breathed, ice dripping down her spine. The men looked at her in surprise. "He's going to annihilate you all."

"Hey, Dorchette, isn't that the hos-"

"Just go!" Dorchette shouted, glancing over his shoulder. They could hear the sound of many booted feet coming along, interspersed with gunfire and howls. "You know where the secret exit is?" They nodded. "Good. Where's Mr. Greed?"

"Some hot-shot shorty alchemist picked a fight with him." The slashed man said, turning to go.

"What?! Where?" Elena asked.

"Never mind! Just go!" They set off at a swift run that would have left ordinary humans in the dust.

"HALT!"

"Oh shit…" Dorchette muttered, turning around. Two men in the field uniforms of the Amestrian Military had their rifles trained on Elena and the chimera.

"Under orders of Fuhrer King Bradley, you are to halt-"

"Shut _up!_" They were sliced up like midwinter hams before they could blink. Elena relieved them of their handguns and continued on, shakily trusting Dorchette to get them out of there.

He took a hairpin turn around a corner just in time to come face to face with more military men. Without hesitation, Elena shot one right through the forehead. The other one was taken care of by the wall crashing inwards, revealing the bull-man Loa and his trusty war-hammer. He took a swing at Elena but she ducked, twisting out of the way just in time. "I'm on your side!" she cried. He snorted, tendons standing out in his neck and arms.

"A likely story."

"I'm showing her the way out." Dorchette said stiffly, as if he were embarrassed. "Where's Martel?"

"Still inside the armored boy. I left her in the tunnels. She should be safe there for now."

"Armored boy?" Why were her two greatest principals in the middle of that mess? "Please, is his name Alphonse El-"

She blocked a punch, fist to fist, without even blinking. Her hand and wrist started bleeding immediately but she didn't notice, instead looking up with frozen blue eyes at her assailant. "Bad move, soldier. _Very _bad move." He hopped back a few paces, surprisingly light on his feet for all his bulk. Wait. She recognized his hand guards. They appeared to be brass or some other metal, spikes on the knuckles and transmutation circles on the backs. She looked up the feet between their eyes, mouth falling open.

"_Armstrong?_" The big man merely settled back in a defensive stance.

"I see you have heard of me." He said, nodding.

"Like hell I have. Turn around like you've never seen us and go away."

"I will not!" he bellowed. "I will not betray my orders!"

"Then here's another order: _Go away_." She growled, darting in low and fast.

After an automail tune-up, she usually spent a week taking it easy and carefully stretching out her joints and making sure everything reconnected properly. Being immediately on the road again was practically suicide, as it was highly likely she would over-extend something and be helpless. But, even though she'd been kidnapped and tied up, the five days of forced stillness had done wonders for her.

She lashed out viciously, ruing the lack of alchemy at her fingertips.

She back-flipped, immediately reversing and attacking at a spinning roll for momentum. Major Armstrong caught her foot and the opposite arm, leaving her to balance on her lone free leg and careful not to fall over. "C'mon, Major Armstrong!" she cried playfully. "You know how to do it. You switch your hands and pull to snap my spine! Didn't Colonel Gran teach us that?" Major Armstrong's massive brow was furrowed in confusion and concentration, trying to place her face.

"I know you…" he said slowly, half a question.

"Yes, you do." She responded pleasantly, tugging at her captive limbs. "You know, it's rude to strike a lady."

"I was aiming for the big one." He responded absently, still thinking. Suddenly, he leaned forward, examining her face. "No." he said finally. "You cannot be her."

"Wanna bet?" she said. "Ishbal, year 6, Roy Mustang blew up the Ibara district in a record-breaking six minutes because you'd used your alchemy to seal the rebels inside and there was a bakery there with tons of flour and-"

Major Armstrong dropped her as if he had just seen a ghost. She jumped back, Loa coming in like the raging bull he had been combined with. "Major Armstrong, just go!" Elena shouted.

Dorchette made a funny choking noise behind her. She turned around, raising her stolen pistols. A sword protruded from the center of Dorchette's chest. "Huh. You were right." He said, a strange expression on his face. "Not one single bullet hit me." And he was down, his assailant stepping out of the hole Loa had made when he rescued them.

"What's going on here, Major Armstrong?" He asked, drawing another sword so that he had one in each hand. He scanned the present faces and, without a word, took care of Loa like it was nothing. The big man fell to the ground with a thump that made the ground shake. Blood washed up over Elena's boots to stain the hems of her trousers. Blood flecked her face and her already gory shirt. She felt a deep, unreasoning fear the likes of which she had never felt before.

She emptied the barrels of both hand-guns into the swordsman, but he blocked them inhumanly fast with his blades. She stepped back when she squeezed the triggers and nothing happened. She was trembling uncontrollably, searching wildly for an exit. "Sir-" Major Armstrong began, about to step in, but it was too late. The swords flashed faster than Elena could blink, slashing the tendons in her legs and sending her down to the floor. She lay on her belly, striving to reach for Dorchette's dropped weapon but the high-pitched whine of a blade split her shirt from her collarbone past her shoulder-blades. She lashed out madly, knowing what was next-

-and a piercing cold stabbed right through her back, straight through the middle of her Ouroboros tattoo. "Hello, Lieutenant." He said quietly as she gasped for air. "_Spite._"

"Bradley." She breathed as her world spiraled down into darkness. "_Wrath_."  


* * *

A/N: Anime Wrath or Manga Wrath? Jeez, anime, why'd you have to go and confuse the heck out of me?


	7. Chapter 7

*Millions of colors flashed before her eyes. Pictures like reels of film played perpetually, never repeating and always endlessly, _endlessly_ spiraling down below her feet as she fell towards an open set of double doors, a grinning skeleton waiting for her at the bottom. "Have you come to reclaim me?" It was surrounded in a glowing aura shaped like a body. The posture was eerily familiar and the tilt of the head somehow managed to be sarcastic. "Come on. I know you missed me." She was falling faster and faster, memories streaking past to be lost in the abyss above her head. She reached out to the skeleton. For some reason, it was important that she reach it! It made to grip her hand but it suddenly stepped back, letting her plummet right past it. "Sorry!" It called. "You can't have The One yet. But I'll let you see The Truth."

"WAIT!" she cried, trying to lunge back up the tunnel of swirling colors and light. "Don't let me go! I don't want to go! Who are you?" The skeleton turned its back on her and she noticed that it was missing a vertebra right where the shoulder-blades were. The medical part of her called it Th6. Realization hit her full force and she struggled madly, thrashing and screaming, "WAAAAAAAAAAIIIII-"

* * *

"-iiiit." She opened her eyes, hands raised out in front of her as she reached for the ceiling. She let them fall back to her sides with a thump against the mattress. She blinked dazedly, trying to get her bearings. Everything smelled like antiseptic and made her want to vomit. Her head spun and her body ached, but the synapses in her brain were starting to reconnect.

_Something to do with fighting…_ she thought sluggishly. _Old fighting, or new fighting?_ After much deliberation, she decided: _Both_.

_Father's hospital?_ She took a deep breath. _No. Strange air, strange scents, strange sounds…_ booted feet pacing outside of her hospital room, outside of a closed door. _Military hospital. Shouldn't I be afraid? But I'm not. I feel as if everyone already knows-_

And then she remembered and sat bolt upright, only to fall back down again with a cry of pain. She saw an IV hanging nearby next to a packet of blood, needles traveling from both to fasten themselves in her left arm. _Blood? _But she was fine! Just a few days with her Stone and she would be fine…except that she didn't have it. She felt her ears frantically with her right hand, feeling how naked they were. _Where is my stone? Where am I? What happened to get me here?_

While those thoughts were busily running around in ever more frantic circles, the door opened to admit a nurse. She jumped and squeaked when she saw her patient awake and ran out of the room again. It was long minutes before she came back again, accompanied by a doctor and none other than the Fuhrer himself.

"Bradley." Elena croaked curtly, feeling extremely vulnerable and stupid in nothing but a hospital gown and blankets.

"You may leave us." The doctor ordered the nurse. She squeaked again and scurried off, snapping the door shut behind her.

There was silence while Elena clenched and unclenched her hands, dreading the inevitable. "You've left us in a very tight spot, Elena." Bradley said at last, in a slightly delicate tone as if expressing his regrets over the illness of a friend's relative.

"It's _Lieutenant Colonel Marcoh._" Elena snarled. "I don't need to hear the name my parents gave me coming out of your mouth."

"Ouch." The doctor said, smirking. "You've burned him."

"Quiet." Bradley ordered curtly. He looked strangely out of place in his uniform amongst the white of the hospital. The room didn't even have a window. "As I was saying, you've gotten yourself in quite a predicament, Elena." He let her stew in that for a bit before adding, "But I can make it all go away."

She looked up sharply at him. "What?"

"No repercussions, no court-marshals, no jail-time. You can have your old job back."

"What, killing people in the middle of a godforsaken desert?" Elena spat. When she didn't get an answer, she muttered, "What's the catch?"

"The catch? Well, the catch is that you will be sent to the lab and experimented on before finally being dissected in maybe a few years if you don't accept." The doctor said with an unholy grin. "Also, there won't be any Stone to help you. It's right here." He held up the clear red stone between thumb and forefinger, making sure Elena could get a good look at it.

"You'll have housing, steady pay, and still be a Lieutenant Colonel. We haven't promoted anyone yet, so you can have Maes Hughes' desk. We need someone trustworthy to filter the information that comes through." Bradley interceded as Elena's face was growing red. "I don't see how you have much of a choice in the matter. If we cut off your supply of blood fusions you'll be dead within the week. You just need to keep an eye on the FullMetal boy and his brother, and only report to me. You will obey only my orders. Is that clear?"

Elena bowed her head, shaking with rage. She didn't have a choice. She was a coward and she knew it. She didn't want to die, not yet. She'd always thought she did but when she was presented with it…. _I only ever wanted to die in a fight_, she thought. _This isn't a fight. It's a hospital bed._

"I…" she raised her head, eyes dull and pale. "I accept." Bradley held out his hand and Elena clasped it weakly.

"Welcome back, Lieutenant Colonel Elena Marcoh. I'm sure your renewed career will prove to be very profitable."

* * *

She smoothed the blue fabric under her hands, forcing them not to shake. The person in the mirror before her was unrecognizable. She was well-kept and smart-looking with a harsh gleam in her eye. Her boots were polished to a brightness commonly found on stars and she had trouble moving for all the starch in her clothes. Her shoulders were straight and her chin up and thrust out aggressively. There was no hint of feminine softness about her. Her eyes were chips of pale-blue ice and her hair brushed back into a severe ponytail, her bangs gelled back.

_On second thought…_ She ruffled her hard bangs, letting them fall back to one side of her face. The mirror-person was a little more familiar, then. She fiddled with the gold braiding before pinning the shiny gold buttons onto her shoulder-straps.

Delicately, she withdrew a pair of black leather gloves from her pocket and pulled them on, flexing her fingers. She examined the pull of the leather over her knuckles-

-before driving both fists through the mirror and sending fragments of shattered silvered glass to hit the walls, opening cuts in her face. They healed immediately, though, thanks to the ruby stones glinting from her earlobes.

"Lieutenant Colonel Marcoh?" A nurse peeked in, looking scared. "What happened?"

"Nothing of any account." Elena answered briskly, stuffing her gloves back into her pockets. "What is it?"

"Ma'am, Jens the driver has the car waiting."

"I'm coming."

Throughout the entire ride, she sat with her hands clenched over her knees; not even noticing the stilted comments about the weather from the driver. "Central Headquarters, Ma'am." The driver said as the car slowed to a stop. "It may not be my place to say, Ma'am, but good luck." She took a deep breath and toyed with the idea of giving into the urge of vomiting. She reached out and tucked 500 sens into the driver's shoulder strap. He murmured his respectful thanks while she uttered a silent prayer in Xingese.

_Please, ancestors…_ she begged silently, disguising a garbled curse as a small cough. _Please forgive me for betraying your trust, for breaking my promise. Please forgive my cowardice and selfishness. Please keep my father safe and please keep the memory of my mother. Please help me to face all comers-_

She slammed the door open, stepping out onto the pavement. _–with open arms and a razor-edged smile._

_

* * *

  
_

A/N: Hey look! It's the doctor (who is actually Envy. Elena and Bradley know this), and The Truth, and a skeleton that knows Elena! -psychotic laughter-


	8. Chapter 8

*Hello, central. My, it had been a long time.

Soldiers paused in the halls to salute, barking out "Welcome back, Lieutenant Colonel!" one after another. She struck similar salutes.

"Lieutenant Colonel Marcoh." She saluted smartly to the only superior she would be interacting with on a daily basis.

"Colonel Mustang. First Lieutenant Hawkeye. I offer my greetings. It's been a while." She said politely, tugging on her collar as the day was warming up. _I'm in the fry pan._

"Yes, it has been awhile. We're glad to have you back and thank you for your undercover service in the field." Mustang responded promptly, more formal than usual. Elena saw the pretty woman beside him flick her brown eyes in his direction before training them on Elena again. Mustang shoved his hand into the pocket where she knew he kept his gloves. _Shall I turn up the heat?_

She scratched her nose. "It is my pleasure to do my duty." _Don't. I'm lying._

"You must have some pretty exciting stories, then." He nudged Hawkeye's boot ever so slightly with his own. _She's trustworthy._

"Not really. Never as exciting as Ishbal." She scratched her nose again and combined that with rocking back on her heels. _I'm lying. The excitement is almost too much._

"Perhaps we'll catch up later? I'll let you get back to your work." He tapped his coat pocket first with his index finger, then twice with his middle finger. _At twelve noon._

"I would like that. Good day, Colonel." She doffed her cap and blinked twice. _I'm being watched._

"Good day, Lieutenant Colonel." He winked. _Good luck._

_I know good people._ She thought contentedly, accepting a stack of paperwork from a woman named Sheska. _Thank you, ancestors._

Being a field officer was much better than being a desk-jockey, Elena decided. By the lunch-break at noon, still on her first day back, she'd waded through twenty-two files, validated three sick-day slips, gotten into an argument on the phone with the furious mother of an injured private, and accidentally called "girlie" by a sergeant who'd mistaken her for a cadet. And the day was just beginning.

She shuffled off to the dining hall, feeling a head-ache coming on and ignoring the stares she got. She knew she looked young. Insultingly young, even. But whenever someone was cheeky enough to ask her age, she'd snap, "Over twenty!" and ignore them. She could tell it was difficult for some officers to call someone younger than them "ma'am", but they would get used to it.

Eventually.

The woman in the apron behind the serving bar gave Elena an extra-large dollop of mashed potatoes and said- rather loudly- that the lieutenant colonel was "too skinny". Elena curtly thanked her and scuttled off to muffled sniggers from people who were technically her subordinates.

"Tough day back, Miss?" She didn't look up from the nest she'd made of her arms for her head.

"It's 'Ma'am' and you damn well know it." She growled, raising her head wearily. "Oh, stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Stop pretending you're not smirking."

Roy Mustang stopped pretending and full-on smirked like there was no tomorrow. "It's only because you look like a kid."

"You have a very black heart. I'm only… what, five years younger than you? What's the big deal? I've held this rank for seven years! It's damn well time they got used to it." Elena said self-righteously, stabbing her pile of mashed potatoes savagely. "But Sheska's sweet. Where'd we get her?"

"The Elric Brothers suggested her. She's got a memory like my date book." Roy tapped his foot lazily against the floor, digging into his own scoop of potatoes. "Did you get shorter?" _How'd you get caught and dragged into this mess?_

"Haha, very funny. I used to outrank you, you know." She said acidly, drumming her fingers moodily against her plate. _Leverage. I was caught in Dublith. Chimera raid. Bradley was there._

"That was then. How'd you manage to get out of Ishbal, anyway?" His eyes were sharp but he sounded vaguely bored. He ignored the other military personnel getting their lunches and sitting down to eat all around them. _The Fuhrer at a raid?_

"Feh. Undercover work. It was easier to do if I was dead. You got any better ideas?" _I heard the Elric Brothers were there. A Homunculus named Greed was there, too. I know of others like him._

"No. But being dead is inconvenient. Who'd want to have dinner with a dead man?" he asked airily, cutting up his slice of meatloaf. _Homunculus? You've been away too long. We need to talk in a safer place._

"You're as shallow as ever." She sighed, bangs fluttering. "I did not miss you at all." _Too true. I'm being watched like a hawk. Spies inside the military. That's who got Maes Hughes._

Roy's tapping foot faltered for a second but continued on a beat later. "Hah. A few people who'd served under you, did. You'll gain more respect as time goes on." _We need to talk. Maria Ross is under suspicion for murdering Hughes._

"I hope sooner rather than later. It doesn't help that everyone thinks that I'm a stupid kid even though I've been serving longer than some of them." _I'll explain later. I need to tell you that I'm-_

A bell went off. "Lunch is never long enough." Roy muttered, picking up his plate and nodding to Elena. "See you later, Lieutenant Colonel."

"See you, Colonel. Don't get eaten by a stack of papers." She called as he walked off to return his plate to the dishwashers as everyone else followed suit. She shoved the last of her potatoes into her mouth and joined the line, chewing slowly until she encountered an uncouth texture. Carefully, she coughed into her hand and hid the scrap of wet paper in her sleeve.

Elena sidled into the ladies' room on her way back to her desk, ducking into a stall and sliding the latch until it clicked home. She carefully unfolded the paper and held it up so that she could see better into the flickering fluorescent light. It was simply a list of code-names.

Jacqueline H.

Kate F.

Elizabeth H.

Vanessa F.

She smiled a small, secret smile. They were the names of people who were in on It. She was sure that there were more as a conspiracy usually required more than five people, but she was content. Such sneaky, sneaky people she knew. Young, ambitious, and clever. So far to climb but so far to fall. She clapped her hands together softly and gripped the slip of paper between them. When she opened her hands, ash trickled to the floor but was soon picked up and carried off by a draft.

"Mustang!" He looked up and scowled when he saw her. Paperwork was littered all over his desk and his pen was being temperamental.

"That's _Colonel_ Mustang to you, Lieutenant Colonel Marcoh." He snapped. Elena gave him a look that would've melted any lesser man.

"You have _got _to tell these women to stop calling you on military lines!" she cried, furious. Other people at the long line of desks turned to stare. "Are you running a bordello?"

"Anyone who wants to call me can do so!" he retorted, voice rising as well.

"During business hours? My god, Colonel! What would the people think if they knew a playboy was one of those in charge of keeping them safe?" Rosy patches of anger flared on her cheeks. "It's embarrassing! Half the time, when I answer the phone, it's, 'Oh. He didn't tell me he had another woman.' How am I supposed to answer THAT?"

"Well, how _have _you been answering that?" he asked, lacing his fingers together and pretending to look interested.

"That no one in their right mind would be your woman." she snarled, planting her hands on her desk and glaring him right in the eye. "I didn't come back here to answer floozies on the phone. It's the _intelligence_ department, Mustang! Not the Concubine Hotline."

"Fine. If it bothers you so much I'll give them my phone extension number." Roy responded coolly, enjoying the sight of his one-time superior looking flustered.

"Good. And this one insufferable girl… Emily Polo? You better call her. She was very threatening. She said something about castration if you didn't call back." With that, she turned around and marched out of there. There was a smattering of applause that was soon silenced by a look from the Colonel.

Riza Hawkeye peeked over the top of the wall separating the two rows of desks. "I guess you better call Miss Emily Polo back, then." She observed.

"Yes," Roy said, grabbing a new pen. "I guess I better."

* * *

A/N: Redid some wording in this chapter and set up some possible details for later on. The code-names bugged me for a bit but if you've read the manga (not so sure about the anime), you should get it.


	9. Chapter 9

*Elena rifled through her desk-drawers, searching for the stash of pens the Colonel had advised her to keep. She shoved her entire arm in up to her shoulder and felt along. Instead of finding a pen, she encountered something else entirely under all of her papers. She withdrew it carefully, hiding it from the office personnel. It was a photo, slightly creased and smudged, but obviously well-loved. A pretty woman holding a pig-tailed toddler smiled up at her, a dark-haired man in glasses with a serous five o'clock shadow stood behind her. He was grinning at the camera and had an arm around the woman. They looked like the happiest people in the world.

"Sheska?" The young woman jumped and stopped to go up to her supervisor's desk.

"Yes, Lieutenant Colonel Marcoh?"

"Could you dig up Maes Hughes' address from when he was alive?" Lt. Colonel Marcoh asked in a voice Sheska hadn't heard before. She pushed her glasses further up her nose.

"Yes, right away, Ma'am!" As she trotted off quickly Marcoh leaned her elbows on her desk and said, "I guess I'll pay a visit."

* * *

Elena stared up at the ceiling, feeling stretched and worn like an old handkerchief. The carriage clock on her nightstand busily ticked away the last few minutes until midnight, the lamp still on and casting shadows against the wall. She turned over onto her stomach on her bed, still fully dressed. As part of her deal with the Fuhrer, she'd gotten a nice apartment and a healthy pay-check. But on the flip-side, she hushed up any even remotely interesting information that came to her on the networks and sniffed out those who dissented. Every night she came home feeling filthy from the lies and the Stone- split into two earrings- on her ears.

"_And watch the FullMetal boy and his brother." _The doctor seemed to have been in on the plans as well. He was disturbingly familiar, but she couldn't worry about that at the moment. _"Steer them away from anything that could be troublesome. You can handle that, can't you, Colonel?"_ It was insulting, the way he spoke to her. She wanted to wring his neck whenever she had the misfortune to be summoned, but she was learning to fight the impulse.

Whispers were going round that she would be called upon as a hand-to-hand combat instructor for the cadets training in Central ever since General Gran was snuffed by the "Crazy Ishbalan". In the meantime, she had yet to be able to get a chance to talk to Roy safely and privately. All she'd gotten in terms of a message since her first day back-- ten days ago-- was "Cobbler Street's alley after the bells", whatever _that _meant. Roy had tapped it in Morse Code when leaning against her desk just that morning. She growled and punched her pillow into a more comfortable shape. A multitude of things had been nagging her besides that. One of which being, "Had she deserved her State Alchemist's license?" "Exactly how far was she promoted out of connections?" the list went on and on. _I'll just retake my test._ Elena thought grumpily. _They buried my watch and I haven't renewed my license in seven years. I wonder if the test was as easy as I remembered-_

_CLANGCLANGCLANG!!!_

She twitched at the sound, sitting up. It sounded like alarm bells from the area of Central's prison. _Cobbler Street's alley after the bells._ Were those the bells? She abandoned her regulation blazer and grabbed her overcoat from the coat-rack by the door, leaping down the stairs of her apartment building. She could hear distant shouting coming from the jail as she got closer, piling on all of the speed and strength she had to get there quickly.

She took a short-cut, vaulting over a retaining wall and avoiding a bad-tempered pit-bull that pulled at its chain as she passed by overhead. She darted out of an alley and collided with a very solid and heavy object, making her stumble.

"LOOK OUT!" She threw her arms up just as a giant meat-clever sliced the air where her head at been, thudding into her arm and being halted by the steel bone within. It hurt like _hell _but it didn't slow her down. She looked up into the brightly-glowing lights that served the suit of armor as eyes.

A strong hand grabbed the back of her overcoat and hauled her back just as the suit of armor made to attack again. "Miss, you better run-"

"Al?" she gasped, grabbing onto his hollow metal arm as he turned away. He looked down at her hurriedly, confusion showing behind the visor of his helmet.

"I'm sorry? I don't know who you are."

"It's me, Elena! From Rush Valley!" she said, spotting Ed running after the cleaver-wielding armor and taking off with Al close behind.

"Elena! We lost you in Dublith." Al said worriedly. "Brother, be careful!"

"I got into a spot of trouble with that Greed character." She said out of the corner of her mouth. "Listen, if anyone asks,_ you and Ed don't know me at all, _okay? It's important!" Al seemed to sense that that moment was not the time for questions.

"All right. I'll tell Brother."

They rounded a corner to find Ed facing off with the armor, a short-haired woman standing behind it along with a young man who was obviously a native of Xing. "That's Second Lieutenant Ross!" Al whispered and Elena nodded.

"Don't bother, missy!" the armor said, warning Ed off with rapid swings of his meat-clever. "Just keep running!"

"Ling! What are you doing with this guy?" Ed shouted to the Xing boy. Elena couldn't believe her eyes as her gaze met the other boy's. _You've grown up so mu-_

"HuiLang-" he started to say before Elena came up behind Ed and ducked past him, vaulting over the armor as it failed to grab her. She kept her body low to the ground as she went after Second Lieutenant Ross.

"Maria Ross! This is a direct order from a Lieutenant Colonel to _halt!_" she bellowed. Ross looked back at her, eyes wide and terrified.

"WAIT! What's going on? Second Lieutenant Ross!" She could hear Ed shouting way back behind her but she kept going. Ross turned a swift corner into an alley and Elena got there just in time to get a face-full of soot from the explosion that went off a split-second later. She blinked and coughed, smoke pouring from her lungs and her ears ringing.

Roy Mustang appeared out of the smoke in full uniform and tossed Ross into a nearby dumpster. She disappeared with a confused squeak. A blackened mass of what could have been a corpse lay at his feet. "What the hell is going on, Roy?" Elena hissed furiously, crossing the distance between them in a second and glancing over her shoulder.

"I needed a witness." He said simply.

"You're going to explain yourself sometime, aren't you?" she asked wearily, laying a hand over her eyes.

"Sometime. You just saw me torch a woman for killing Hughes and then escaping justice." Roy's voice was tense and he kept on looking at the mouth of alley. Swift footsteps were approaching.

"How angry am I?"

"Extremely. You want to rip my head off."

"You sure?"

"You are pissed off beyond words."

"All righty then. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Ed was just rounding the corner with Al when he heard a second explosion, this time of sheer female fury.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR, MUSTANG?" Lieutenant Colonel Marcoh stood on her toes and grabbed Colonel Mustang's lapels to roar in his face. "THERE'S NOTHING LEFT!" She pointed a shaking finger at the smoking corpse, its smeared jail bracelet marking it as "Maria Ross".

"That's-"

"Ah, good. Elric, is it?" The Lt. Colonel asked him curtly. "Good."

"What's going on?" Al asked, staring in horror at the corpse.

"Well, that _was _Maria Ross, one of the people _under my jurisdiction_, Mustang." Marcoh poked Mustang hard in the chest. They glared daggers of unspeakable disgust at each other. "Yes, she killed Hughes, Mustang, but did you need to burn the sorry chit to a crisp?"

"I thought you of all people would understand, Marcoh." He flicked her hands away with a contemptuous movement of his gloved hands. "Sorry chits _need_ to be burned to crisp. It's only justice." He spat coldly.

"You _bastard!_" Ed was scarlet in the face, shaking with rage. "Lieutenant Ross wouldn't do something like that!" He made to leap at Mustang but Al held him back as he struggled wildly.

"Brother, please!"

"Why didn't you say anything?!" Ed yelled. "Why keep me in the dark like a little kid? WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!?!"

"Exactly what I would like to know, Mustang." Elena's voice turned to poisoned ice. "I no longer have any authority over you, but don't think I couldn't whip you if I tried."

A clean-up crew arrived ten minutes later, along with Colonel Douglas. Elena gave her report with many glares in Mustang's direction but still finishing with a, "…though I'm glad that poor Hughes got justice." Ed looked tortured, sitting with his brother against the wall of the alley and staring at the tarp that covered Ross's corpse. "You'll get used to it." He looked up at her with a blank look.

"Hn?"

"You'll get used to it." Elena said stiffly, standing by him. "I can't even begin to count off the dead bodies I saw in Ishbal. I was only about your age, anyway."

"He killed her. But… she killed Lieutenant Colonel Hughes...." He sounded vaguely confused and Elena felt a brief stab of pity for him, wishing she could tell him everything.

"Brigadier General Hughes, actually." Elena corrected, voice losing its edge. "Good turnout for the funeral, too. I could show you where he's buried." Ed looked surprised at her invitation.

"Um… sure. Thank you."

"No problem." Elena made a show of rummaging in her pockets for a handkerchief and wiping the soot from her face and hands. She offered it to Ed so that he could wipe off his filthy hands, too. "Keep it." She said as he accepted it. "Men are always losing handkerchiefs. I'll see you at the office tomorrow, shall I? Good night, Elrics."

As Ed scrubbed at his hands with the white square of linen, Al suddenly said, "Brother, look." Off-white patches were showing up against the black of soot. Ed carefully dragged every square centimeter of fabric against the brick wall behind him. Soon, the entire face was black with grime but words drawn in white wax shone up at him. They were written in blocky capital letters as if someone had used a candle as a stylus: **I'LL BE IN TOUCH**.

Ed quietly folded up the handkerchief and tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket. "Brother, we don't know her." Al's statement was partly question.

"No, Al," Ed admitted, rubbing the back of his neck and taking a deep breath. "We don't."

* * *

A/N: Again, edited for wording. I wasn't satisfied before with Elena's reaction to Ling and vice-versa.


	10. Chapter 10

*Elena stood on the doorstep, unsure of what to do next. She'd gotten the address from Sheska but she wasn't entirely confident with her motives. In fact, she didn't even _know_ what her motives were in the first place. The busy street clamored on behind her, separated from the row of nice houses by a long wrought-iron gate. It was a cool day and she was glad for the heavy cloth of her uniform.

Finally, Elena squared her shoulders and stood up straighter. She rang the doorbell.

The sound of fast little feet grew before the door flew open. Elena was perplexed for a moment as a joyous little voice cried, "Papa!" and grabbed her 'round the knees. She looked down into the big eyes of the three-year-old from the picture. The little girl let go and stood back, looking confused. Apparently, she had only recognized the uniform. "You're not Papa." She said quietly, head and pigtails drooping. Elena begged her ancestors for guidance and knelt down at the little girl's level.

"Hi. Are you Elicia?" she asked in a gentle voice, taking off her cap. The little girl nodded. Elena recognized the stiff set of her shoulders and guessed that her lip was trembling, too.

"Are you gonna give Papa back?" Elicia asked, voice quivering. Elena wished that Elicia wouldn't look at her with such big, imploring eyes.

"I'm sorry, Elicia. I didn't take him in the first place."

"Elicia? What's the matter?" A pretty woman came to the doorway, her short hair curling about her face in a fetching manner. "Oh? Seems like our day for guests. How may I help you-" her eyes flew to Elena's shoulders. "-Lieutenant Colonel?"

Elena straightened, not quite sure of what the protocol was for speaking to the families of men who had died in action. "Umm, Mrs. Hughes, right?" The woman nodded, seeming to just notice how young the officer before her looked. "I believe this belongs to you." Elena fished around in her inside pocket, procuring the photograph she had found in her desk drawer just the morning before. She handed it to Mrs. Hughes. "I think he'd want you to have this." Mrs. Hughes took it carefully, looking at it tenderly before covering her mouth with a hand.

"Please come in, Lieutenant Colonel…?"

"Oh! Marcoh. Elena Marcoh, recently transferred back to Central Headquarters," Elena said hurriedly, following the older woman into the foyer and to the sitting room. "I'm sorry for coming without any notice."

"No, not at all. We always liked having guests." Mrs. Hughes said with a smile. "Oh, I'm sorry, Colonel. This is Winry Rockbell. She's a friend of ours." A blond girl stood up suddenly from her seat on the couch as if stung.

"Colonel Marcoh!" she said in surprise. Elena held out a hand.

"Oh, no. You've heard of me? Pleased to meet you, Miss Rockbell." Winry shook her hand, puzzled at Elena's formality but only receiving a raised eyebrow in response.

Mrs. Hughes served out steaming cups of tea and the room spiraled into depressing silence, Elicia playing with her doll while sitting in Winry's lap. "Oh! I'm so sorry-" Elena set down her cup of tea and extracted a thick envelope from an inside pocket in her blazer. "-I completely forgot about these." She gave them to Mrs. Hughes while Winry looked on curiously. Hughes' wife uttered a small sound of amazement and laid out the contents of the envelope on the coffee-table.

"I had no idea he still had all of these pictures!" she whispered in awe. There were baby pictures of Elicia, pictures of a younger Gracia, pictures of their house when they first moved in, and even a picture of Hughes making Roy smile for the camera while Riza looked on.

"He had them in the cushion of his office chair," Elena explained. Winry and Gracia looked up, questions in their eyes. Elena was not one to blush, but her cheeks turned slightly pink. "We used to hide stuff like that during the war. In camp seats, bedrolls… anything with more than one layer. And…I… have been given his desk upon coming back to active duty."

"Oh! You're _that _Marcoh?" Gracia asked. Elena blinked at her, nonplussed.

"I'm sorry?"

Gracia extracted a photo from the mass on the coffee-table; Elicia was cooing over some showing her parents when they had first started going out. The photo that Gracia held up was in sepia, illustrating the limited photography technology of the field. Hughes was, naturally, at the center of it and seemed to be the one to have conspired for it. A younger, moodier Roy was apparently trying to sneak off but Hughes had snagged his sleeve. Even Riza Hawkeye looked girlish in the picture, her hair short and a long-distance sniper rifle slung over her shoulder. Major General Basque Grand was as muscular and harsh-looking as ever, hand clamped firmly on the shoulder of a young girl, hardly more than seventeen. Her mouth was open and her eyes were turned towards Hughes, as if she were speaking to him. A few other individuals of varying rank stood in the picture.

"Is this really you?" Winry asked in a soft voice, pointing to the girl standing by General Grand. Elena made a funny expression and said, in a low voice, "Yes."

"You haven't changed at all! How old were you?"

"Umm… seventeen, I think. Or sixteen. Ah, no, it's not like that. I got my State Alchemist's license when I was fourteen. My father had connections so that's probably why I got promoted so fast. And I was suicidal on the field! They like that in an officer…." Elena trailed off, realizing she was babbling. She ducked her head. "I'm sorry."

"So young to be a Lieutenant Colonel." Gracia said, a mother's worry in her voice. "Surely that causes problems for you." Elena shook her head, earrings flickering.

"Not really. I was once the commanding officer of a few of them at the office, including Colonel Mustang. They listen. I'll just have to teach the rest of them."

There was another knock at the door and Gracia hurried to answer it. Elena took the chance to lean forward as Elicia ran off to follow her mother. "Winry, you don't know me."

"Obviously," the girl with the blonde ponytail retorted. "You're so much like Ed and Al, keeping your secrets so close." Elena had to grin at that.

"Because that's the only way secrets stay secret, Winry. You and I have never met, except for today. I've only just met the Elric Brothers last night. As a noncombatant and a civilian, it would be best for you to keep your ears open but your mouth closed." Winry was about to say something but Elena shushed her. "I'm serious. Though, the way things are going, I may not be able to get out to Rush Valley again and I may need your assistance. Tell Dom and the family to leave the country before they're spotted. Tell them to go to Xing. They'll know where. And _you _try to get out of Central as soon as possible, okay?" Gracia came back, leading –speak of the devils- Ed and Al Elric, much cleaned up from the night before but still looking tired and worn.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. Hughes, but I'm needed back at the office." Elena stood up and bowed, setting her hat back on her head. "Hello, Elrics. Come to pick up Miss Winry, I suppose?" Ed nodded warily, grimacing as Elicia expressed her excitement at meeting the "smallest alchemist". "I shall see you around. Good day, Elrics. Good day, Miss Rockbell. It was a pleasure to meet you." And Elena was out of there faster than a jailbird out of a prison break.

* * *

"Why, I just _had _to hear your voice again, Elizabeth." Elena grimaced as she walked into Roy Mustang's officer. A few privates scuttled out of there, amazed at Mustang's audacity during Lieutenant Hawkeye's absence. He examined his fingernails critically, not even looking up as Elena slammed down a huge stack of files. She waited impatiently while he exchanged sweet nothings with the woman on the other end. She could just barely make out the woman's words.

"Why, Mr. Roy, what about your scaaaaaary lieutenant?"

"She's taking her vacation. Too bad she's the _only _Lieutenant I can send out on vacation, at the moment." Roy gave Elena a pointed look and she flipped him the bird.

"If you're done, there are a few forms you need to sign," Roy told her calmly, unimpressed with her crude conduct. He nodded to a stack of forms that was even larger than the one Elena had come in with. "You need to sign them in my presence, too. Here's a pen."

Uttering curses, Elena pulled up a chair and started to work, her annoyance growing with each passing second. "…and she's been working so hard," Miss Elizabeth concluded after a long-winded story that Elena could hear all-too-well. "And she's- oh, hold on, Mr. Roy. Kate? Would you go get Jacqueline?" Roy's smirk grew a tiny hair and Elena felt the corners of her own mouth tugging up. "We've got a guest."

There followed a few more moments of petty conversation before there was a loud bang that made the two colonels in the office twitch. "Elizabeth? Is everything all right?" Roy asked in a mild tone.

"Oh, a customer was just bugging Jacqueline. I gave him a slap."

"Ah, harsh as ever, Elizabeth. Shall I give Emily a call to help you? I have her vacation number."

"I don't think that's neces- oh, dear." Elena tensed, pen scribbling mechanically as she signed documents while keeping her mind trained on the conversation. "Yes, would you? We could use an extra set of hands."

"I don't have to sit here and listen to this!" Elena stood up suddenly, slamming her pen down. "I'll sign these later when you're not… _occupied._" She left in a huff, slamming the door behind her.

"Emily's on her way, Elizabeth," Roy said into the phone, spinning in his leather office chair. "She's in a terrible mood, though, so she should clean things up quickly."

"Oh, Mr. Roy, you're too kind."

* * *

Elena walked along in a business-like manner, entering the nearest ladies' room and locking herself inside a stall. She stood lightly on the porcelain cover of the water-tank, sliding a ceiling panel out of the way and extracting a duffel bag. She brought it down, undoing the zipper and yanking out a short-sleeved black turtleneck, heavy black canvas pants, and a hood with eye-holes cut into it.

She wriggled out of her uniform and practically popped all the buttons off of her white dress-shirt in her hurry, pulling on the turtleneck. She tugged her belt tight over the slightly too-big pants, tucking them into another pair of boots that was in the duffel bag. She sat on the closed toilet-seat to do up the laces, blessing the emptiness of the restroom.

Finally, she pulled on the mask, undoing her ponytail to more easily stuff her hair out of sight. She repacked her uniform into the duffel-bag and tossed it back up into the ceiling panel, undoing the lock on the stall door.

The door swung open to reveal the stall, completely empty save for a few granules of dust on the spotlessly white water-tank.

* * *

A/N: Thankfully, this chapter didn't need TOO much work. Just a lot of manual spell-checking since my word program is stupid about it.


	11. Chapter 11

*"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Roy. I have to go now. Our guest of honor is here." Riza said into her headset, cocking her rifle. The presence at her back was malignant, unnatural, and…_hungry_. She whirled around, letting off three concentrated bullets into the thing's forehead. It had taken the form of a grotesquely huge, bald man wearing black. It opened its whale-like mouth in shock as the bullets pierced its brain. But then it smiled. A slow, ghastly, starving grin.

"Ouch," it said in a childish voice. "That hurt. I'm here to eat you." It came at her far too quickly for its bulk. Riza emptied the barrel into it, panic rising in her throat. _Why doesn't it just DIE?_ She raised her hand-gun too late as it grabbed her throat. She drew blood with lead right between its eyes. It only phased the thing for a moment before it went back to grinning maniacally. It lowered its head towards her face and sniffed appreciatively. "You smell good." It told her, drooling. It opened its gigantic mouth, preparing to bite down while Riza sent lead down its gullet.

"Gluttony, put her down _now_!" The thing paused to look around.

"Huh? Whozzat?" It asked stupidly. A fist armed with tiger-claws ripped into its head. It dropped Riza and she scrambled for cover. A hand gloved in black leather grabbed her by the arm and tugged her behind what was left of a brick wall.

"Lieutenant!" Master Sergeant Kain Fuery scrambled over to Riza and her rescuer. He tossed the blonde woman another hand-gun and, in unison, the three of them turned and shot at Gluttony.

"It won't keep him down." Riza's rescuer was a slight figure dressed all in black. It seemed to be a woman judging by its voice and build. The only bits of exposed skin were her forearms and eyes. "He'll eat you if he gets the chance. He's far faster and stronger than he looks."

"Emily, is it?" Riza asked grimly, shooting Gluttony from the face again as he stood up.

"Right on. He- oh shit. He moved out of view. Where is that fat-a--"

The brick wall they were sheltering behind collapsed inward, sending brick and dust crumbling down on their heads. "You smell familiar." The woman dressed in black was lifted up by the front of her shirt. "You smell like Envy," Gluttony said doubtfully. "I bet you would taste _awful_ like he would." He hurled her into the other wall where she hit the bricks with a dull crunch. Then Gluttony turned to Riza as she struggled out of the pile of debris. She was picked up just as easily as a mouse. Gluttony leered, saliva dribbling to the floor. "But you'd be _super_ tasty." A spark shot out of nowhere and lanced right into Gluttony's gut. He dropped Riza in surprise and she rolled out of the way just as he exploded in a wave of gore.

"Colonel!" Fuery scrambled to his feet, relieved beyond words. Mustang stalked into the room, spark gloves on his hands and his fingers just itching to snap again.

"You're so slow…" the woman in black complained, un-sticking her spine from where the brick wall had made an indent in it. With a few cracks, her vertebrae realigned. Sparks danced like heat lightning on her skin before melting into her flesh. She groaned at the plastic shards of what had once been her gun. "Damn it."

"And _you _weren't very effective," Roy growled, helping Fuery collect scattered equipment.

"Well I'm very sorry. Next time _you _face down one of the Sins, let me know!" The woman's voice was knife-sharp, laden with sarcasm. The coldest blue eyes Roy had ever seen flashed in his direction. "Homunculi should not be messed with. By the way, where are Jacqueline and Vanessa?"

Roy gave her one last look before turning to confer with Riza. "Down below with Bunny. You should hurry." The woman gave a cackle and hurled herself out of the space where the window once had been.

"That I shall."

She went into a controlled fall, spotting Gluttony's carcass below her and an extremely familiar palm tree-headed pain-in-the-ass. She landed lightly on Gluttony's reconstructed stomach, launching herself off again and rolling away.

Suddenly, a throwing-knife flashed and thudded into her gut, scraping intestines and other organs. She gasped in pain, wrenching it out as alchemy rebuilt her flesh. "What was _that_ for?" She looked up at another figure wearing black robes and a fearsome mask. "Who are you?"

"Who are _you_?" The voice from behind the mask was female and young, maybe her own age or younger. "No… how many people are inside of you?"

She glared at the girl, seeing her dark eyes flash behind the holes in the mask. She recognized the costume, the weaponry, and the accent in the voice. "I do not know," she said in Xing, obviously startling the girl. "I have never known. Too many, certainly."

"Who are you?" the girl pressed, also speaking in Xing.

"My Xing name is HuiLang," the woman in black answered. "My mother was of the Yao Clan."

"Who was your mother?" the girl answered. She'd stiffened when the woman, Huilang, had said "Yao Clan".

"LaoTzeng," the woman answered. "I recognize your dialect; it's like mine. You are also of the Yao Province."

"How does a daughter of Xing come to be one of them? A Homunculus?" The woman flinched at the girl's harsh tone.

"By no fault of her own," HuiLang answered. "And what name is yours?"

"RanFan. I guard the honored twelfth son of the emperor."

"Ling? _That_ walking famine?"

A fist came swinging out of nowhere into HuiLang's face. She blocked it and grinned behind her mask. "It's rude to strike a lady, sir."

"Bitch!" Envy snarled, backing away and circling. "How do you know what we are?"

"Well, there's this reason." HuiLang dug the blade that RanFan had thrown at her into Envy's gut. Envy backed off even further, hopping lightly over debris.

"C'mon, Gluttony!" he shouted harshly. "What are you doing?!"

"I'm baa-aack!" Gluttony trilled as he sprang back up.

"You know what they can do, right?" HuiLang asked RanFan as they went back to back, facing out against their enemies.

"Yes." RanFan answered tightly.

"Do you have allies in the area?"

"Some. And you?"

"Yes. But they are not as well-trained as you or I. Do you know the Falling Lotus Pattern?"

"Yes!" RanFan and HuiLang each linked an arm and drew their weapon of choice: a sword for RanFan, and a long, thin knife for HuiLang. Envy transformed into a lion, all fangs and claws. Gluttony just ran at the two females as he was, mouth agape and hands grasping. RanFan and HuiLang leaned back against each other and slightly to the side, blades flashing like sparks of lightning in the sun.

As soon as Envy was made cautious and Gluttony confused as to why the meat-puppets cut him up, HuiLang un-linked her arm through RanFan's and dropped her knife, leaping upon the martial-arts-savvy homunculus. Envy raised his hands in a sword-catching technique, grabbing HuiLang's tiger-claws and bending them out of shape, dislocating her fingers in the process. The black-clad woman merely shook off her ruined weapon, settling back on her heels for strict hand-to-hand.

A knee swung up to crush her ribs but she just barely blocked it with her fore-arm. Envy's face suddenly turned ashen pale and he hopped back on one leg, a massive bruise spreading under his skin. "What the fuck are you made out of?" he snarled, disliking surprises of any sort.

"Wouldn't _you _like to know." HuiLang said smugly. Some ways off, RanFan kept evading Gluttony easily as she waited for reinforcements. Envy made a noise of fury and charged, body low to the ground as he made for a vicious uppercut.

HuiLang tossed him right over her hip but he grabbed her and sent her to the ground, fist smashing her face. Blood pooled around her head but she grimaced behind her mask and head-butted Envy, feeling his nose break. He didn't let up, though, and they grappled and rolled, exchanging swipes and picking up bits of concrete and shrapnel to hit each other with.

Alchemy crackled and flashed about them as they healed and reformed, the only signs of wear on either of them were the blood and the tears showing in HuiLang's clothes. There was a jagged rip by her mouth and she used the most under-handed street-fighting trick she knew: she spat square in Envy's eye, making him jerk back in surprise. She used the chance to bring her knees up to chest level and send her heels smashing into his chin just as she'd done to Dorchette what felt like so long ago. Except, of course, she didn't go easy on Envy one bit. She saw the odd angle of his neck and knew she had broken it.

Armored hands helped set her on her feet. "Thanks," she said gruffly, then, "You're not supposed to be here." She looked up the two-foot difference in their heights at Al.

"I came with Ling." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the young man standing by RanFan. He sported a ponytail and curved sword, conversing seriously with RanFan. Gluttony was lying nearby, trying to close the gaping hole in his stomach with his hands.

"You have thirty seconds, you two," Elena hobbled over to the two Xing natives with Al right behind her. Ling looked up, eyes even narrower than normal.

"Who are you?" he asked suspiciously. RanFan kept her eyes on Gluttony.

"Ling, it's HuiLang. It hasn't been that long, has it?" Elena said. Ling shook his head, ponytail whipping back and forth with the motion.

"You cannot be HuiLang. You-"

"-are _dead_…" They all turned to find the source of the low, murderous voice. Envy managed to roll over onto all-fours, coughing. "I'll crush you to pieces!"

"He has an unusual body composition." Ling fearlessly went to stand by Envy, bending down slightly to see him better. "Regeneration?"

"Fuck… so many little mice…" Envy growled, staggering to his feet while Gluttony sprang up. "Just more work to get rid of 'em all. Gluttony!"

"Can I eat them, Envy?" Gluttony stared at them hungrily. "A few of 'em look tasty."

"Yeah, go ahead!" Envy got a nasty look on his face, bordering on insane. "Devour them! Grind them into tiny little pieces and digest them!"

"He's also of the same kind." RanFan muttered to Al, Ling, and Elena.

"What? He can't die?" Ling looked surprised.

"No."

"Then that means-"

_**Immortality**_.

* * *

A/N: -sigh- Wow, the reactions of Elena and Ling were crap once upon a time, weren't they? Their relationship is a little more developed later on. And in the manga, Envy has black hair. I'm quoting Al in the next chapter because in the manga he calls Envy a "slender black-haired person" or something to that effect.


	12. Chapter 12

*"Be careful of him!" Elena called, retreating towards the car racing their way. The few civilians still around after the melee screamed and scattered. "I'm sorry to have to go, but I've got-" She leapt backwards, snagging the roof of the car on the way by.

"Colonel!" Al was running to keep up. Roy Mustang stopped the car and leaned out of the driver's seat window.

"Alphonse! Where's Lieu-"

"Up here, Colonel!" Elena leaned over the side of the roof into his line of sight, grinning through the tear in her mask.

"Good. Get in." Roy motioned for her to get inside the car. She glanced inside, seeing Riza Hawkeye and recognizing the build of the man sitting in the back seat, dressed exactly as she was.

"Ah. If we're all crammed in the back, who is there to watch the sky-"

"Colonel, it's about Lieutenant Colonel Hughes, right?" Al looked intently at Roy, hands fisted at his sides. Roy nodded.

"See if you can squeeze in there. I don't think you can ride on the roof like Elena."

"Hey there, pretty missy!" Elena flinched horribly at the empty, damaged suit of armor running beside the car as they screeched off. She recognized it as the meat-cleaver-wielding menace from the night Lieutenant Ross escaped. A chill went down her spine as she sensed something unnatural up ahead. A dark, bulky shape that was too small to be Gluttony was running along the roofs in front of them and they appeared to be following it.

"Oh my god. Is that _you_?" Elena shouted over the noise of the car's engine to the suit of armor.

"Yup! I get to chop my body up!" The armor did a little caper of glee.

"Don't lose sight of it, Barry!" Lieutenant Hawkeye leaned out of the window to call.

"I'm not likely to, Missy!" Barry crowed in reassurance.

Elena swung her entire upper torso upside-down through the back-seat window, nearly slamming into the masked man being squashed by Al. "Sorry!" she said apologetically as he swore. "So, what have I missed? I think Envy knocked a few teeth loose so if I spit up little bits of ivory, it's not scurvy."

"That's right, ENVY!" Al said suddenly in realization. "Colonel, we just saw a slender person with long black hair. He had an Ouroboros tattoo on his leg. I saw him at the fifth institute. There was another one like him named Greed back in Dublith. They're Homunculi!"

The car swerved beautifully, plowing into a produce stand and sending Elena shooting through the window to fall into the masked man's lap. The two alternately swore and said apologies. "Hey! Watch it, man!" Barry shouted from outside, making sure to run a little ways ahead of the car.

"Sorry! Hold it, Homunculi? That's not possible!"

"Shut up, Roy." They all chanced a glance back at the steely, vicious tone in Elena's voice. "There's no such thing as 'impossible'. Homunculi exist and there are far more than you'd think possible."

"I know you probably don't believe me…" Al said doubtfully, sounding like the fourteen-year-old he was inside.

"No, we believe you, Alphonse," Riza assured him, holstering her hand-gun. "The one called Gluttony was not affected by even my deadliest shots."

"Jeez. It's the ultimate freak-show." Roy muttered.

Elena hit him non-too-gently upside the head, making him jerk the wheel again. "Watch your mouth, Colonel," she warned. "Be careful who you're calling a freak." He saw the spiteful look in her blue eyes through the rear-view mirror and said no more.

It was dark before they came to a building. "Hmph. It's the Central City Research Facility." They all poured out of the car, cocking weapons and adjusting masks in the case of two of them. Barry cackled madly.

"He went in there! Come back here my precious flesh!" Barry trilled¸ bursting through the swinging glass doors. Screams were heard from within.

"Damn it! He's completely lost control!" the masked man swore, cocking his pistol. His female counterpart did the same.

"Yes…. How convenient." Roy murmured thoughtfully.

The four others followed him closely as he threw back his shoulders, parading into the panic left by Barry inside the building. "Everyone evacuate!" he ordered, pitching his voice over the ruckus. "A wanted murderer has entered the building!"

"Sir, what's going on?" A man in a military uniform came up to them, followed by five others.

"The felon who broke into the penitentiary is on the loose here. I'm surprised he got past you." Roy injected just the right amount of scorn into his voice. "Block all the exits. I don't want anyone coming in."

"Shall we call for reinforcements?"

"No, I already have."

"When did you call for reinforcements, Colonel?" Al asked quietly as the facility personnel all evacuated.

"Ahaha. I lied." Roy chuckled darkly, drawing his gloves.

They crept down into the bowels of the lab, the fluorescent lights flickering in the gloom. They soon came to a fork of two halls leading in different directions.

"We'll take this way," Roy said, motioning to the man dressed in black. "Lieutenant, you take the other two and go that way. Collect only a reasonable amount of information before coming back."

"Yessir." Riza said, nodding.

"No, nuh-uh, I'm coming with you." Elena shook her head.

"That's a direct order-"

"From who?" Elena challenged. "I'm insubordinate and you know that. I go where I like. I have a feeling you two will need all the help you can get." Roy knew it was pointless to argue, so they went their separate ways. The hall was taking an incline further and further into the earth.

Pipes jutted out of the walls and ceiling like intestines, barred doors making the whole place look like some sort of giant cage. "Whew, the atmosphere is brutal down here." The man in black removed his mask, revealing himself to be Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc. "It's like a prison."

"Ugh. Unlike any prison I've been in. More like a laboratory…" Elena said, whisking off her mask as well. Lieutenant Havoc made a wheezing sound upon seeing her face.

"C-c-colonel Marcoh!" he sputtered, not knowing whether to salute or be alarmed that one of his commanding officers had been sitting on his lap for the majority of the car-ride.

"Oh, you didn't know?" she asked with wicked innocence. She searched for a hair-tie on her person but found none. "Roy, I thought you informed everyone who was in one this little venture."

"Must've slipped my mind…. In here. Check it out." Roy motioned to a room that looked like it had been through an acid wash. Old lab equipment lay rusting and moldering in heaps, broken glass and bits of other unsavory substances carpeting the floor.

"Oh god…" Elena muttered, looking around and covering her mouth and nose. "Smells like a lab."

"Ugh… I'm just a poor country boy, but I know the look of experiments." Havoc mumbled, finger itching to pull the trigger of the rifle he carried easily in one arm. "This is the look."

"Oh, _tut tut_. Not only did they fail to stop you, but they also allowed this… _intrusion_ to happen. What are those kids doing out there?"

The three turned as one, raising their weapons to the figure that stepped out of the shadowed corner. "Seems like we've underestimated you guys."

The bottom dropped out of Elena's stomach but she didn't lower her gun. Probably the only person she had ever been jealous of, was-

"Lust." She muttered curtly, just as Havoc said in a shocked voice, "Solaris!" Oh, no, the chick that had actually been _human_ at one point in time didn't have any curves. Heaven forbid she have anything that made her look like more than a scrawny, bony teenager. Elena would never dare to wear such a sensuous, low-cut dress if simply for the fact that she didn't have anything to hold it up with. Plus, the homunculi seemed to all flaunt their Ouroboros tattoos in obvious places.

Lust smiled a slow, feline smile. Everything she did was sensuous in and of itself, no matter how innocent the motion. She flicked her hair back lazily over one bare shoulder, everyone's eyes immediately drawn to the scarlet Ouroboros on her chest. "Why, Elena and Jean. I had no idea my two favorite people were so well acquainted."

"You _know _her?" Roy sputtered furiously.

"Oh, Colonel, seems like you've been left behind in the dust. I'm going out with Jean." Lust said, a slightly hurt tone in her voice.

"That's an Ouroboros tattoo." Roy said flatly out of the side of his mouth to Jean and Elena.

"No shit, it's a birth mark!" Elena snapped. "She was sapping you for information, wasn't she, Havoc?"

"Oh." Roy said, finally catching up. He gave Havoc a look that would have peeled paint. "No wonder you were deceived. You like bosomy women, don't you?"

"I _**love**_ bosomy women!" Havoc muttered fervently.

"Why do men always look at a woman's chest, first?" Elena whispered furiously.

"But I can use that to my advantage, Elena. You should learn to do that as well." Lust said delicately, before glancing pointedly at Elena's very modest curves. "Oh, wait, I'm sorry. You can't." Elena raised her gun to fire but Lust headed her off. "Nuh-uh-uh, Colonel. Wouldn't want to get you in even more trouble, would we? Envy isn't going to like to hear about this. And I might just let Gluttony eat you after Envy… _tenderizes _you."

"Shut up, Lust," Elena snarled. "You're not leaving. I never got you back for Hughes, did I?"

"Hughes?" Lust raised her eyebrows, mouth pursed fetchingly as she thought. She tapped her chin with one gloved hand. "Hughes, Hughes.... Oh, _him_. He was quite a man, wasn't he? My only regret is that I didn't_ finish him off_."

_BLAM!_

Roy's gun smoked and he looked far angrier and scarier than either of his two familiars had ever seen before. Blood spurted from a wound in Lust's leg, making her bend over. "Kneel down and confess everything you know." Roy ordered between gritted teeth. Lust straightened with a smirk, sparks dancing around her wound.

"I don't think so. You people will never be able to make me kneel."

"Roy-" Elena began, but a round of bullets found its way into Lust's abdomen. Blood flecked the ground as she staggered. "Roy!" Elena said again, louder this time, letting her gun drop.

"Hnh." Lust chuckled and stood up straight, licking the blood dribbling from her lips. "How merciless. Two little heroes from Ishbal for me to play with."

"Homunculus." Havoc breathed, horrified.

"My, you really did do your research. Or has Elena—I'm sorry, _Spite_ been a little snitch?" Lust cocked her head at the younger woman who averted her eyes. "Well, you're useless to us now, Sweetie. I might as well use you as an example. See those pretty little earrings your lieutenant colonel is so fond of?" Elena's cheeks burned red with shame as she looked away from her comrades, feeling their eyes on her. "A Philosopher's Stone, really. She's so dependent on them it's pitiful. Without them she'd die and she doesn't want that, now, does she? You hate us, _Spite_. You hate your own kind and it's _disgusting. _Human beings created with that Stone as their nucleus are homunculi. That's _us_."

"I'm not one of you…" Elena mumbled, but no one paid any attention.

"Freaks…" Roy said again. "It makes sense, now. That's how you survived Ishbal. Why didn't you tell me, Elena!"

"How rude." Lust butted in. "We have bodies and minds of our own, we have five senses… we have emotions and thoughts, and we even feel affection towards our creator. We _are _humans."

"Hmph. You've just revealed your little spy to us. Does that mean you're going to kill us, now?" Elena flinched like a kicked spaniel at the tone of Roy's voice. "Homunculi themselves are top secret. So for you to be here…" he nodded toward the empty doorway behind Lust, leading into a dark room. "You don't want us to find out what's behind you."

Lust didn't answer; still smiling that slow, lazy smile of hers.

"Havoc!"

"Yessir!"

"Forget about the woman. This has become a situation of life or de-"

"Didn't I tell you? It's no good!" Elena shouted, grabbing Roy's gun arm furiously. "You're going to get yourselves ki-"

_BANG!_

_SNICK!_

Havoc sucked in a deep breath as the room went deathly quiet. Roy looked half-horrified half-furious. Blood poured from the bullet-wound over Elena's heart, bladed fingers protruding from her stomach that just barely grazed Roy's uniform. "Ouch." Elena said hoarsely. "You shot me." She looked in surprise at Roy. "Why'd you shoot me?"

_BANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANG!_

Holes riddled her chest and torso, a single shot going straight between her eyes. She keeled over, knees crumpling like wet paper as she stared out with blank, empty eyes. Even Lust looked a little surprised at the turn of events, but it didn't slow her down for even a moment. Her nails growing even longer, she sliced right through a water-pipe hanging low from the ceiling.

Cold, musty water poured out, soaking the two men. "Hmph. I know your tricks, Colonel. Shooting one of your own officers? Despicable. I guess I have to avenge one of my own, after all. Your gloves won't work with all of this water." Lust said smugly, licking the blood from her fingers. The two men dodged for the doorway that lead out into the man hall, plastering themselves on either side of it.

"What do we do now?" Havoc yelled. "You just shot down Colonel Marcoh and now that Homunculus broad is going to torture us to death!"

"Jeez, I didn't get to Colonel for nothing!" Roy yelled right back. "This is actually a turn for the better. With all of this water, that means plenty of hydrogen…"

Lust was just about to turn the corner and "greet" them when a lighter flew right by her head.

_**BABBOOOOM!**_

_**

* * *

  
**_

A/N: More rewording. Elena is really a weak, whiny character, isn't she? She's prone to angsting and stuff and wow she's kind of annoying in some parts. She reminisces and angsts so much it makes me sad. Character Strengthening Medicine is the only prescription. Which is what I am doing now. But reading back I have more appreciation for the wording and stuff. I rather like the flow of this fanfic.


	13. Chapter 13

*"You think she burned to death?" Havoc nudged a half-melted beaker with his boot.

"The lipid disperses into the air when a body is burned." Roy said grimly, poking along and turning over random objects to check beneath them. "There'll be a slight grease trail around your mouth from the fat of a nearby freshly roasted body."

"Eauch. Experience gained in Ishbal? Yeesh, I guess you burned the Colonel, too."

"Be on guard," Roy interrupted, shoulders hunched slightly. "The corpse is close. We can't take those regenerative abilities lightly. Be it either homunculus, you take them out." Havoc nodded and pulled off the safety on his gun, turning around to check the other side of the room-

-just as lance-like fingernails pierced up through the stomach and back. He dropped his gun, falling as his legs gave out. "HAVOC!" Roy shouted, running to his fallen lieutenant. "Havoc!" Lust rose from the ashes, flesh and bone rebuilding about her body.

Spite was awoken by the shouting and the throbbing throughout her body. She recognized the unpleasantly sick feeling of having been burned to a crisp. It was very quiet save for a voice repeating, "Stay with me, Havoc. C'mon, answer me! I'm not going to let you die before me!" The voice was forced to stop occasionally as it uttered groans of pain. The familiarity of that voice was what got her up. She rolled over onto all fours, noticing with annoyance the black tunic that fit like a second skin. It seemed to be melded with her flesh, as how else would it have survived the inferno that had blazed through not minutes before? Her legs were completely bare save for a pair of shorts and a whole lot of soot while the place right between her shoulder-blades itched.

"Who's there?" the voice challenged harshly, having heard her move.

"**Shut the hell **_**up**_**, Colonel.**" She growled, finding that she couldn't stand just yet.

"Elena?"

"**Sorry, but it's **_**Spite**_**.**" She answered with a grim snarl. She found him on his side not far from the still form of Jean Havoc. She sat back on her heels and loomed over him, grinning with steel teeth. "**Hey there, Roy-My-Boy. How are you? Going to shoot this body again? Go ahead. Too many souls for it to quit on me just yet." **For emphasis, Spite patted her abdomen with satisfaction.** "Ya know, I gotta thank you for that little campfire of yours. It cleared my head. Let me get my prospects in order. Elena just wouldn't shut up. She was going on and on, moaning and groaning and making an absolute racket!"**

"You're not… Elena…." Roy grunted, staring up into blue eyes that were nearly white. The tiny pupils fixed on his face and she said with harsh sarcasm, "**No, **_**really**_**. You don't say. God, you're such a douche. Can't you tell the friggin' difference? I'm SPITE**!" She poked him hard in the shoulder repeatedly to get her point across. "**There's been a change! I can think clearly, now, and you just **_**piss me off**_**.**

"**So I wouldn't be expecting much mercy from me, boyoh. That hurt a bit when you shot a bunch of holes in me.**" Spite said seriously, bobbing her head like some inane little bird. "**And then-**"

"_**Spite, that's enough.**__" _Spite flinched, looking everywhere.

"**Pride? Where are you? Did you see what She did?"**

"_**No, I didn't. Finish these two off and**_**-**"

"**Oh no you don't, bitch**." Spite said in a strained voice, gripping her head. "**GET BACK!"**

"No!" A completely different voice said, not as harsh as Spite's. "Stop it! If you hurt them I'll... I'll... _you don't want to know._"

"**No! It's MY body! It's all mine! You can't-**"

"I was born with this body so _you _get back!"

Slowly, her black clothes melted into a puddle around her feet and vanished. "Roy, if you do not close your eyes right now, _I will tear you limb from limb._"

"E…lena?" Blue eyes that he knew stared at him through a curtain of jet-black hair.

"Yes, it's me. Now shut your goddamn eyes and gimme your shirt."

"No. Look at Havoc first." Roy ordered through gritted teeth, hands clasped to his bleeding side.

"Wha- oh my. Close your eyes."

"Can you do anything?"

"Yes, I can help him. I didn't learn _all _fighting in Xing."

"You… have a Stone. You can heal him-"

"I can only stop the bleeding and maybe heal the damaged muscle. I have no knowledge of nerves. His spine has been severed."

Elena rolled Havoc over onto his back. She felt the erratic pulse in his neck and saw his glazed eyes. He was shaking, his muscles seizing like someone was shocking him repeatedly with jumper cables. "Hey, Havoc, can you hear me? Just focus on me, okay? Don't slip off." She found a bowie knife tucked into his belt and cut away his shirt, wincing as she saw the double puncture wounds. "They go right through him, Roy," Elena said. "I really can't do much at all. I can't even fully heal the muscle, now that I see it better. Stopping the bleeding and burning away infection is all I can do."

"Then do it!"

"I just have. Now give me your shirt and I'll have a look at you."

"Hey… Colonel?"

"What?" Roy and Elena snapped impatiently at each other before realizing it was Havoc who had spoken.

"You all right, Havoc?" Roy leaned over the second lieutenant waving his hand back to forth. Havoc followed it with his eyes.

"No. Am I in heaven?" Elena snorted in derision at his question.

"No! What makes you think that?"

"Because there's a naked pretty lady leaning over me and looking concerned." Havoc said in a dreamy, concussed voice.

"Shirt. _Now_."

Elena swiftly did up the buttons of the slightly bloody dress-shirt, face fading from pink back to its usual pale. "You had better go check on Hawkeye and Al," she said suddenly. "Lust left. She'll be after them."

"Oh _shit_." Roy got up stiffly, hand to his side, and limped off at a rapid pace, drawing a sigil in blood on the back of his hand.

"Now, Havoc, you're going to have to stay conscious for me, okay?"

"Oki-doki, Colonel. Anything for you."

"Oh, god." Elena moaned, hiding her face in her hands. "I am _never _going to live this down."

* * *

"Checkmate."

"Aw, take it easy on a wounded man, Colonel!"

"We both got holes poked into us. Now, lose like a man, Lieutenant."

It was midmorning in the Central City hospital complex. Light filtered in through the window of the hospital room, making the white walls and floor seem not as harsh.

Lieutenant Colonel Elena Marcoh sat cross-legged on the end of Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc's bed, beating him royally at chess. They tried to tune out Colonel Mustang and Lieutenant Hawkeye just two feet away while Mustang was chewing her out for giving up. Apparently, Lust had gone and chopped Al up after she'd taken care of the three who had at first accosted her and spread the news that Mustang, Havoc, and Marcoh were dead. _He always did like that "never leave a comrade behind" stuff,_ Elena thought, tut-tutting as Havoc moved his black knight into an unfortunate place.

"At least you're alive to get beaten," Elena pointed out as Havoc made a noise of disbelief at his fallen knight. "Lust poked some pret-ty nasty holes in you there, Lieutenant."

"Couldn't you at least have kept me from getting such ugly scars?" Havoc wanted to know, capturing a white pawn. "They'll drive the girls away!" Elena pursed her lips in annoyance at him.

"Hey, come on, at least I didn't get Roy to roast you. You don't need a hot lance when he's around. He can cauterize wounds. Maybe not as well as the next guy, but he can. Would you have liked big shiny burn scars instead?" Elena asked sweetly. Havoc shuddered.

"No."

"There's a good man. Girls love scars, anyhow. We mostly think they're dashing. Checkmate."

"Really?" Havoc seemed slightly mollified.

"Yes. But you _really_ have got to lay off the busty chicks, Havoc. Got you into a lot of trouble this time." Havoc hunched his shoulders and turned beet red. "You're lucky she didn't stick you when you were having dinner together or something. She would have if she'd thought it necessary."

"I'd rather not think about the fact that I was dating a fr-…a homun-"

"You were going to say 'freak', weren't you?" Elena leaned back, propping herself up on her arms. "It's okay, I guess. If it's any consolation, you guys are basically meat-puppets to… us."

"I've been meaning to ask you that, Lieutenant Colonel." Elena and Havoc both looked over at Roy. Riza Hawkeye was still standing there and had apparently just been clued in. They both had steely, uncertain looks in their eyes. "What was that thing with 'Spite' back there?"

"Oh, her?" Elena said, unconsciously drawing her chin down. "She's me and she's not me. The Philosopher's Stone, I think, can carry some sort of conscious entity separate from the user's own. I've only had mine for seven years and it's never been really _inside of _me, like as an actual nucleus. I had some trouble with her in the beginning but I haven't had a problem for years. It only happened because I used my Stone." Elena said simply, shrugging. "I was going to die because you shot my god-damned earrings off, Mustang. I found 'em and absorbed 'em before I _really _croaked."

"So that's why you haven't changed at all. You're forever young."

"Sadly, yes. I will be forever stuck as a bean-pole."

"And what is your connection to the ones called Envy and Gluttony? They caused mayhem in the streets."

In answer, Elena clapped her hands together and slapped them down on the floor. The doors and windows sealed, not even a breath of air getting out. "I am their spy." Elena said quietly. "I faked my death seven years ago to get away from all this. You know that, Mustang. You helped me escape."

"I wouldn't have if I'd known you were on_ their_ side," Mustang growled, hands fisting in the blankets on his lap.

"But I'm not." Elena corrected, eyes cold. "I got caught in Dublith. There's another homunculus called Greed who is running a gang of chimeras down there. Apparently he's heard about me from someplace and wanted to know more about me. He wants a word with my father, Doctor Tim Marcoh. He's the one that was making Philosopher's Stones for years. Bradley got me right through the tattoo with one of those damn swords of his. We had a nice little chat, he put me in a bind, and here I am. Hmm… I probably should have told you this before, but you could all die in horribly painful ways –probably in a lab- if any of you breathe a word." Elena finished brightly. "So yes, I'm a homunculus. Marcoh rebuilt my body using the residue of it from the building where Kimbley blew me up. My bones are steel, wouldn't you know it? Oh, no, calcium and bone is just too _hard _to remake! Let's make bones out of shrapnel and keep 'er alive with the souls of a bunch of dead people!" Her voice grew bitter and she lapsed into a brooding silence.

"How many homunculi are there?" Riza asked sharply. Elena could tell she was mentally going through all of the weapons she could use to bring them down.

"How many? Eight that I know of, including myself."

"EIGHT?" Roy yelped. "Human transmutation has been successful _eight times_?" Elena nodded.

"We're pretty much immortal, so homunculi tend to collect over the centuries. They're mostly over one hundred years old. I'm the youngest at twenty-four."

"And all of the homunculi have a tattoo, right?" Havoc just wanted to make sure that he would know what to look for next time. Elena thought for a moment.

"That I know of… yes."

"So… where's yours?"

"Havoc!" Elena cried, hands flying to her chest. Her eyes and mouth went wide in appalled shock. "What a base question! How crude, how crass, how _insulting_-"

"Hey! I just wanna know!" Havoc held up his hands in alarm, turning bright red. He heard sounds that might have been snickers from Hawkeye and the Colonel.

"Pfft, I was only yanking your chain, Havoc!" Elena snorted, giving his leg a reassuring pat. "Here."

She turned around and yanked off her blazer, undoing the buttons of her crisp white shirt. She slid it off just enough to bear her back, arms crossed over her chest. "How's that?" she wanted to know, but the room had gone dead quiet. She sighed and waited. "I'm not cold at all, thanks for asking," she said in a conversational tone. "You know, pretty much shirtless in a tiled room and all in front of a _window_."

"Ah… go ahead and put your shirt back on, Lieutenant Colonel." Roy's voice was soft. Elena did-up the buttons of her shirt in a business-like manner.

"So, weirder than you imagined?" she asked, slinging her blazer over the crook of one arm as she turned to view the room again. "I don't have fangs or anything. I've got porcelain veneers over steel teeth, so it's a pretty cool party trick to open beer-bottles with just my gnashers." She smiled at their confusion at her cheerfulness. "Don't look at me like that. I'm here because someone couldn't let go. I can live a normal human life in this body, except that I can't die. I'm still Elena Marcoh, Colonel and Lieutenants. I still am and always will be and I never plan to be anyone else. I'll be your gun-arm if you asked me to. I'll always watch your back and always do my damnedest to make sure no one gets hurt. I just can't die. That's all that makes us different."

With a flash of alchemy she unsealed the doors and windows… and was gone.

* * *

A/N: This used to be a sappier chapter. I have fixed that. –shudders- Much sap will have been gotten rid of by the time you read this.


	14. Chapter 14

*"You didn't tell them anything, right, Spite?" Someone was waiting for her in her apartment. Two someones, in fact. They were in sharp relief against the brightness of her window , making it impossible to see them right away, but she didn't need to see them to know who they were.

"Envy, Gluttony, how are you?" She forced herself to relax. After all, they shouldn't know it was she that had been beating the crap out of them the day before, right?

"You didn't tell?" Envy pressed, lounging comfortably on the broad windowsill. But Elena knew better than to mistake his nonchalance for lack of readiness. He was like a hair-trigger juggernaut; always ready to spring and once he got going, he was unstoppable.

"Of course I didn't!" Elena scoffed, hanging her blazer up on the coat-rack by the door. "I'm not an idiot."

"Uh-hunh. And you weren't there yesterday?"

"Pffft, no, of course not!" The youngest homunculus gave Envy A Look. "I got there just in time to put one of my boys back together. Lust sliced 'em up pretty good."

"Lust is dead." Envy said flatly. From his spot on the floor Gluttony sniffed, heartbroken.

"Lust's gone…" he mumbled, chin trembling. "Bad Colonel Mustang…"

"Yes, yes, bad Colonel Mustang," Envy agreed absently as if he were actually listening. "Listen up, Spite-"

"I'm ELENA."

"-Spite, Pride's beginning to suspect you. He says you tried to tell him something before you went back to your usual sniveling." Envy finished, examining his fingernails as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"My other side was trying to take over," Elena answered coolly. "I can't really remember what I said or did. I just got my ass down there because Mustang called me for help."

"Mustang…" Gluttony growled. The two other homunculi ignored him.

"Just watch your step, Spite," Envy warned, standing up. "We're down to eight homunculi, now. But Fear's a loose cannon and Greed went back to rejoin father."

"Oh. I'd wondered what had happened to the bastard. You think I'm next?"

"I'm _saying _you're next if you don't get your friggin' act together." Envy retorted.

"Funny that _you _would say that, Envy," Elena shot back, hands propped on her hips and chin jutting out aggressively. "Seeing as you created such a scene. If I heard right, you got your ass kicked by some coked-up little bitch in black! She knew about you, too!" It was a very, very risky gamble to bring up her little alter-ego, but she took it.

She was both relieved and unnerved by how Envy took the bait. They stood toe to toe, glaring poisoned daggers at each. Elena's boots made her exactly as tall as the other homunculus was in his bare feet. "You watch your fucking mouth." Envy said in a low, dangerous voice.

"And if I don't?" Elena snarled, refusing to back down. There were only two people in the entire world that scared her shitless: Pride, and Envy. Pride inspired fright because he was an unknown quantity. She only knew that he was the homunculus with the closest form to father's.

And Envy made her so scared it pissed her off because he was a friggin' jack-in-the-box that she could understand. "Envy" and "Spite" weren't all that different in the basest of senses.

"I tear you limb from limb, got it?" Envy growled.

"I'd like to see you try, Envy." Elena breathed. "You'd get far more than you bargained for." Envy suddenly turned, slamming the window open and cracking a few panes of glass.

"See you in hell."

* * *

Elena groaned and fell over the back of the couch, covering her eyes. "You're so lucky you get a vacation." Beside her, Colonel Mustang turned a page in his book.

"You call _this _a vacation?" he asked, pushing her boots out of his face. "I got stabbed and I'm on bed-rest in a _hospital_."

"I got shot a couple seven—sorry, _eight_ times, stabbed through the gut, and then burned out of existence." Elena spread her fingers so she could look up at her superior. "I've been meaning to talk to you about that."

"Is this really the best place?" Mustang indicated the bustling hospital around them. Riza Hawkeye stood at attention behind the colonel.

"It's just hiding in plain sight," Elena said, righting herself and cracking her knuckles. "It worked in Ishbal. Just lay out there with a reddish blanket over you and people think you're a rock."

They were silent for a while, Elena counting the bumps in the ceiling's white paint before she said, "Have you ever been shot?"

"Once or twice," Roy answered absently, studying a diagram of the human spine in his book.

"It doesn't really _hurt_, persay," Elena went on. "Depending on where you get shot, it's more of a sting. And then it becomes a burn, and then it's agony to even think about it. Especially when it's one of those bullets that explodes into shards of lead inside of you when it hits." She grinned lazily at Roy. "Thanks for not shooting me with one of those, Colonel. It _really_ would have pissed me off."

"You're welcome," he said carefully, closing the book but saving his place with a finger. He didn't like being only in simple marshmallow-green hospital clothes while Elena sat in full uniform beside him. He also didn't like the way she examined her already immaculate fingernails as if they were having a pleasant conversation over tea and cakes.

"Because I mean _ouch_, Roy," Elena said, turning to him with a hurt expression. Malignance danced in her suddenly too-pale eyes. "I'm a friend, Roy. You know that." She reached into her coat pocket and Roy heard Riza shifting behind him as she reached for her gun. Elena pulled out the pearl-handled revolver she had never been without. Riza cocked back the hammer on her own gun but Elena gripped the barrel of the revolver, holding the handle out to Roy.

"And as a friend, I need to ask you to do something very, very important." Elena's voice had dropped down to a whisper. "It's only a matter of time before Spite and the Philosopher's Stone completely corrupt me. It's already starting. When that happens-" she took Roy's hand and curled his fingers around the smooth grip of the revolver. "-I need you to stop me, all right?" She held his onyx eyes with her own of purest sapphire. "As a big favor to me, please do it."

"You want me to put you down like some sick dog?" he hissed furiously. "I've already shot you more than once and it didn't work!"

"There's a spot right between my shoulders," Elena explained. "Right on my back, right through the center of the pentagram of my tattoo, okay? It's the sweet spot, you might say. It's the only bit of real bone in my body. You draw a bead right there with those bullets I've already got loaded in the magazine and I'm wasted."

Roy said nothing, simply staring at her. She gave him a smile. Not one of those sarcastic smiles she liked tossing out, or those reckless grins or smirks. The one she showed at that moment was small, denoted only by the slight curving of her lips and eyes. "We're war buddies," she told him softly. "But one of us didn't come out of the war completely. When Dr. Marcoh yanked me back out of the Gate, he didn't only get his daughter." Elena tapped the cover of Roy's book. "And you'd best talk to an expert about Havoc. Try Doctor Knox. You're accomplices now, right? I've got a Stone but no skill, so call me when you need me. I'll be going. Don't get fat on hospital food, all right?"

* * *

He was staring out of his window, eyes unfocused. He'd found himself doing that a lot lately. It was strange. On any other day, he would have been running around the office wearing holes through the soles of his boots. He'd be bitching with the other officers about how bad the coffee was and how you needed to drown it in sugar for it to be even remotely palatable. But there he was, laid up in bed like the sick old man he wasn't. Heck, he was barely twenty-eight and already needed assistance in sitting up. His career had hardly begun and yet it was already over?

Smoke made lazy trails from the end of his cigarette, making loops and spirals with each exhale. Just as a bit of ash was about to fall, there was a flicker of alchemy and a crystal ashtray was shoved under his nose, catching the ash.

"You don't want to set your lap on fire," Lieutenant Colonel Elena Marcoh said. It was she who had made the ashtray.

"Oh, thanks." Havoc said, blinking back to reality. "The nurses only let me have one a day."

"Hm. I'm surprised they allow even that." Elena propped a hand on her hip, her blazer slung over the crook of one elbow. "Other people are dying of lung disease while you're just care-free as you please, puffin' on a cancer stick."

"There are worse ways to go," Havoc shrugged. "What brings you here, Colonel? With Colonel Mustang laid up here too, I'd think you would be stuck doing his job."

Elena cackled. "That's why we have that dear Sheska," she said wickedly. Havoc couldn't help but share her smirk.

"That's just mean."

"You flatter me, Havoc. But really. I wanted to see how you were doing."

"How I was going? Go ahead. See." He gestured moodily to his legs. "I can't feel anything past my lower back. I've already got my retirement papers worked out."

"And what do you plan to do?" Elena cocked her head, pale eyes unreadable.

"I don't know!" Havoc retorted, throwing his arms in the air in frustration. "My parents own a shop. I guess I can at least answer phones. I'm twenty-eight and I'll be living with my parents again. Oh joy."

"You still have a family," The blue-eyed woman pointed out. "I've seen combat veterans far worse-off than you. Some rookies come back from their first real time in the field missing a limb or an eye… or not at all. You're better off than a lot of soldiers."

"Oh, better off than you?" He didn't know what made him shoot such venom at his superior officer. Maybe it was the way she spoke so softly that annoyed him, or how she stood there looking so defeated. Or maybe it was just how she looked so young but had such old, old eyes. Was it pity for her or for him?

She looked up, eyebrows at a dangerous level. "Yes, like me. You want to be a homunculus, do you, Havoc?" she snapped. "You want to live forever and watch time ruin all the people you've ever loved?"

"At least you're not going to be a burden for the rest of your life!" Havoc snarled in reply. Elena seized him one-handed by the front of his shirt and shook him roughly, surprisingly strong for her size.

"Don't you _ever _say that, Havoc," she hissed into his face. "You will never, _ever _be a burden. If I ever catch you even thinking that… I will kick your ass, understand? As long as you have a mind you cannot be a burden. You'll catch up, Havoc, you'll catch up. If you ever think otherwise you will fail faster and fall further than you can possibly imagine." She released him suddenly, taking a few steps back. "No one can be a burden and be left behind unless they want to be." She said stiffly.

"Yes, Ma'am." Havoc responded, staring at her incredulously.

"Good man. Ah, Lieutenant Breda. I meant to have a word with you." A beefy man with a buzz-cut opened the door cautiously. He saluted Elena.

"Sure, Colonel. How may I help?"

"Oh, crap, look at the time. I _really_ have to get back to the office. Lieutenant Breda, you're a smart man. How about Dr. Marcoh?"

"Dr. Marcoh? What about hi-" Breda paused and his eyebrows drew together in thought. "It may just work."

"Run it by Mustang and, if you need to, drop my name to grease your way." Elena rapidly did up the buttons of her blazer. "And if that doesn't work, I have quite a few favors to be called in."


	15. Chapter 15

*"Elena Marcoh." It was a statement-- not a question-- that sounded late at night a few days later. Elena paused, her briefcase in one hand and her coat slung over her shoulder. Her hair was released from its usual ponytail and trailed down her back, the top few buttons of her dress-shirt undone.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" she asked politely. There was no one else on the bridge so late at night. The only light came from a few street-lamps and the crescent moon. The first speaker stood under one of the street-lights, face shadowed in the depths of his hooded cloak. Elena took a few steps closer, feeling unease starting to prickle along her spine. She was alone and sweet-looking. Who knew what creeps would try to take advantage of her (even though she could take care of them quite easily)?

The cloaked figure turned, ruby eyes glinting in the lamp-light. "Oh. Damn." The girl breathed. The hackles on the back of her neck stood up. "Why are you here?"

"It is my duty as God's warrior to rid the world of State Alchemists." The figure rumbled in a low, dangerous voice. Elena tried a disarming smile but it faltered as the figure-- a large, dark-skinned man at least six feet tall-- started to stride towards her.

"Oh, well, that's good. My license expired over six years ago," she said lightly. "You go run along and get rid of those pesky state alchemists."

"Just like a dog of the military," he sneered. "Running away with your tail between your legs without a legion of alchemists and soldiers to protect you."

"I don't need them to protect me," Elena scoffed. "If anything, you'd need them to protect _you_ from _me_!"

"The names of those children of God you've killed are many." He ignored the childish retort, instead pulling off his cloak and exposing his right arm. Ornate tattoos traced his brown skin in bold black ink. "It's time for your atonement."

"Oh, I know I need atonement." Elena's voice was cold as she put down her briefcase and coat, drawing her black leather gloves from her pocket and pulling them on. "And so do you. Avengers are one-trick ponies, my friend. They're drummers who only know one tune."

"And I only _need _to know one tune." The Ishbalan said. "Death!" He moved surprisingly fast and his strength was admirable. Elena had thrown up her briefcase just in time. It exploded into ash and charred paper, raining down where her head had been a moment before.

She back-flipped away, sliding easily into the Xing style of fighting. She only just noticed the jagged X of a scar that crisscrossed the Ishbalan's face. "I knew I should never listen to anything Gluttony says," she said in a conversational tone, dodging his right hook. "He said he killed you." Her eyes hardened, glare murderous. "And you killed General Gran, didn't you?" She clapped her hands and slammed them down on the ground, sending a spike of concrete up that her assailant just barely managed to avoid. "He was a good man!"

"He killed many of my people," the Ishbalan rumbled. "And I know you as the Ice-Eyed Demon, the one who tears people apart with her bare hands." He managed to clap his hand down on her shoulder. There was a blast of alchemy and blood spattered the pavement.

"And you don't?" Elena asked, blood washing the left side of her face. Bloody steel glinted and moved as she flexed her left arm, the flesh completely gone. "I'd say _you_ only need _one _hand to tear someone apart."

The Ishbalan jumped back, watching her arm rebuild itself with disgust in his eyes. "You are like the other two," he accused.

"Sort of." Elena shrugged and cracked her neck. She shook out her arm, the meat back on the bones. "But I'll let you in on a little secret. My bones are metal, so you can't break me. Bend me, maybe, but not break. Oh. And I can't be held responsible for what I might do to you." She grinned, pupils shrinking down to mad little pinpricks. "They tell me I have a serious lack of control."

She darted forward, feinting left but actually coming in with a savage right hook. Scar had anticipated that though and-- instead of grabbing her arm and halting her-- got a good hold on the front of her shirt and fell back. He brought his legs up and, with a little hesitation at her unexpected weight, planted his feet in the center of her stomach. He pushed with all his might and sent her flying over his head. As she passed by Spite gave him a strange, slightly confused look. Merely throwing her around, no matter how hard, would have no effect. She'd simply get up again and come to kill him.

But as she kept going and skimmed over the railing of the bridge, realization hit. Her eyes widened in horror and she opened her mouth to scream, instead inhaling water as she hit the water with a huge splash.

A curtain of bubbles blinded her as she fought vainly to get back to the surface. The water was dark and murky as were all city rivers. Another splash reverberated through the water and a black shape obscured her clearing view of the street-lamps. Murderous red eyes were all she saw as a hand clamped down like a vice around her face. She kept sinking, dragging them both down. She thrashed wildly, tearing with her fingernails at the hard flesh of the Ishbalan's arm.

There was a muffled explosion and a great cloud of red dispersed, staining the river black and attracting the bottom-feeders.

* * *

Envy was sitting back on his heels, whistling tunelessly. He pulled his short cloak tighter about himself. The cold didn't bother him but the movement still made him feel better. Why was _he _the errand boy? Really. Yes Father, no Father, three bags full Father. He was getting pretty tired of it. At one point in time he had been the _only _homunculus. Being the eldest of all of Father's "Children" should've had its perks, right? No. Instead, he had to make sure that his "Siblings" stayed out of trouble. And sometimes _they _would have to come and collect _him_! How was THAT for embarrassing? Not to mention that the youngest of their little family was beginning to be the most troublesome.

He glanced dispassionately at the river that flowed by sluggishly, an oily film upon the water. The youngest was always getting her stupid self in stupid situations that she needed stupid help with. She thought she was all _that_. Jeez. Who was fishing who out of some open inter-city sewer at dawn? He'd been waiting for over five hours, ever since the bitch had gone off the bridge. He thought she'd be fine, of course. Why should he lift a finger if she could handle it? But no. That nasty little Ishbalan was the one that had dragged himself out of the river while a big ole rusty splotch was spreading through the water. So Envy had made his leisurely way to where all of the water courses in the city ran out and settled back to wait. He didn't want to wade around in chest-high muck looking for one suicidal little homunculus. No. Let _her_ come to _him_.

He was just about to start scaring the early-morning commuters passing by over his head while he waited in the sewer-mouth when something caught his eye. A single boot floated by, half-submerged. Now, a boot drifting in the sewer wasn't such an uncommon thing, but the boot was small enough to fit a rather petite woman and it was of military grade, smelling of boot polish even above the stink of sewage. He shuffled closer to the smelly muck and suddenly darted his hand in like a heron spearing a fish. With a weary sigh he drew his fist back, clutching a quantity of filthy black hair and the head attached to it.

He shook the owner of the hair roughly until she opened her eyes and started hacking up slime. He dragged her up onto the ledge that lined either side of the tunnel-- just because he was nice like that. He had to admit that she looked like an utter mess. It actually made him somewhat happy that she looked so bedraggled. It was oddly satisfying to see his "dear little sister" in any form but her crisp, snooty, "oh look at me I'm a Lieutenant Colonel at seventeen years old" form. He proceeded to let her know that.

"Jeez, Spite, you look like shit." He said with a grin, standing up and planting his hands on his hips. "Maybe you should stay home more."

"**Bite me, Envy**." Spite hacked, wiping muck off of her face. She leaned back against the mossy brick wall of the tunnel, blinking out at the sunshine at Envy's back. "**What time is it**?"

"Do I _look_ like a clock to you? Took you long enough to come to. I've been waiting here for _hours_." Envy looked distinctly uninterested. Wait for it… wait for it….

"How long, Envy?" Spite repeated. He noted with disappointment how she sounded more like Elena than her more fun self.

"It's about five in the morning." There! That lovely twitch in her forehead and the abrupt downturn of the corners of her mouth as her pupils shrank.

"FIVE?" she squeaked, fighting to get to her feet and slipping without her boots. Her trousers were ragged and her shirt was nearly nonexistent, clearly exposing her filthy back and the crimson tattoo there. "I have work in two hours! I can't miss… I'm doing Hughes's AND Roy's job…."

"If you'd stop being such a narcissist and _listen_-" That got her attention. She looked up at him with eyes so desperately tired that he felt a faint thrill. Hah. She'd be washed out to sea or someplace without him and they both knew it. Who knew how long she would have drifted if he hadn't decided out of the absolute kindness of his heart to help her? "-Wrath wants a word."

Elena's face darkened like a thunder-cloud. "Wrath can go screw himself!" she snarled, supporting herself on the slick walls of the tunnel. "I have other work to do as he very well knows. I've got to get cleaned up, got to get to work-"

"That's the thing. He wants to see you about work." Envy butted in. He grinned widely. "_Our _work. Come on, Spite. With Lust gone you're one of the Sins!"

"Except 'Spite' isn't exactly a sin, now, is it?" she wasn't correcting him, and that made him just grin all the wider.

"Naw. Think of it as a mix between envy and wrath."

"You're a disgusting, horrible, devious, malignant little meat puppet you know that?"

"Thank you. I didn't know you felt that way about me. Too bad you're only a lump of rotting flesh and rusting metal to me."

"Oh, touché."


	16. Chapter 16

*_Bastard… I'm bashing his face in the first chance I get._ She ran a wide-toothed comb through her damp hair, jogging in unlaced boots down the hallway. No one was around, surprisingly. She had a piece of toast in her mouth that she crunched on furiously, stretching a hair-elastic between her fingers and winding it around her ponytail. _I swear. Bradley knew what he was doing when he ordered all those Ishbalans exterminated._

She stopped, puzzled. She was _agreeing _with Bradley- no- Wrath? That didn't sound right. Bradley was Wrath, after all. He was a _SIN_- in more ways than one. He was a crime against nature and that was that. An experiment. He simply existed the way he did through a mere fluke. But…

_Then don't I also exist through a mere fluke?_

"Lieutenant Colonel?" Someone she recognized vaguely as maybe a lieutenant general opened the door. "You're late." He said flatly.

"I'm right on time, actually." Elena snapped, straightening. She shoved her arms through the sleeves of her blazer and buttoned it up, eyes cold and mouth a grim line. Then, with a faint smirk, she traced her fingers across her shoulders, alchemy crackling. The lieutenant general's eyes narrowed when she grinned ingratiatingly at him. "What were you saying, Raven?" she asked. Was she suddenly… taller? No. She was just standing straighter, somehow taking up more presence than she had before. She brushed past him, her brigadier general's stars glinting in the dim light of the conference room.

Every head at the conference table turned in unison as she flung back the heavy double-doors. They banged against the walls like thunder. _Grand entrance. Bingo_. They should know who they were dealing with. She noted with satisfaction that, with her general's stars, she outranked a few of them, Raven included. Who cared if it was a posthumous rank that she had scorned? She'd earned it fair and square working her butt off while the middle-aged men grouped around the table had given orders and signed papers. She'd been in the thick of the battle, killing and _being_ killed.

And then the hot, bubbling sensation that she had recently come to associate with losing control started. It raced through her veins, trickling under every single inch of her skin. It prickled and stung yet it warmed her; gave her something to focus on; gave her something to focus _with._

"Ah. Lieutenant-" Bradley stopped and his visible eye crinkled in a darkly amused smile. "Brigadier General Marcoh. So good of you to join us. Have a seat." Elena parked herself in the only available chair that also happened to be the furthest from Bradley.

"Now, see here, Mr. Fuhrer," A major general that Elena only vaguely recognized looked deeply uncomfortable. "I didn't know that children were going to be involved."

"On the contrary, General, you knew very well that children were going to be involved." Another major general that Elena only knew by his eyes puffed out a long, slow spiral of cigar smoke. "The FullMetal shrim- I mean, the FullMetal Alchemist and his brother. Prime sacrifices, aren't they?" Elena grinned patronizingly at the smoker.

"Those could kill you, you know," she told him, nodding towards his cigar. He ignored her and tapped the end of the black cancer-stick into a crystal ash-tray.

"Don't go poking your ugly nose into other people's business." He said with a hint of superiority in his voice. "That could land you floating butt-up in a sewer." Elena narrowed her eyes at the thinly-disguised threat.

"Children in our midst." a colonel spat in disgust. Elena and the major general to stare at the speaker. Their eyes narrowed identically. A few officers sitting around them delicately edged away. "Fuhrer, Sir, I don't think that our ideals should depend on the temperaments of younger officers," the colonel went on to say, staring intently at the Fuhrer. Bradley didn't look at anyone, instead gazing thoughtfully at his laced fingers. "Lieutenant Colonel Marcoh-" Elena's eyes narrowed down to slits at the slur of her rank. She was the youngest general in known history—besides being only the second woman to ever make it past colonel-- but damn if she hadn't worked so hard and watched so many people die for her to not to deserve that title. "-is hardly old enough to be a normal second lieutenant, let alone a colonel or even a _general_."

"Is that sexism?" Marcoh wanted to know.

"Of course not. General Olivia Armstrong is a woman I highly admire." The colonel replied coolly. The smoker just smirked to himself. The girl didn't care if the colonel was sexist or not; she was just looking for a reason to kill him. "Your inexperience is what concerns me."

Surprisingly, it was King Bradley and not Elena Marcoh that answered. "General Marcoh served valiantly in the East Area Civil War," he said somewhat sternly, but it was easy to tell that he was at least slightly amused at his officers squabbling.

"Fought, promoted, bled, promoted, shot, promoted, bled some more, promoted, and died." Elena counted off on her fingers. "Faster promotions than sitting in an office all day feeling my butt go flat. Got a bit of a boost making it to State Alchemist, which is more than _you_ ever got, but-"

"Sir!" a message-runner came in the door and saluted smartly, looking panicked. "The Ishbalan named Scar has been spotted!"

"That is originally why I called for this meeting." Bradley told the gentlemen sitting before him. "That murderer must be stopped."

"He kills an alchemist and leaves the scene immediately. He's left no one alive so far to give any real evidence," an officer complained.

"On the contrary, we do indeed have a living witness. General Marcoh, give your report." Bradley ordered. All eyes turned to the young woman as she stood up, straightening her shoulders and launching into the format she had learned as a cadet.

"This morning at around 12:30 am on my way back to my apartment from the office I encountered an Ishbalan with a cross-shaped scar on his forehead." Grunts of disbelief greeted this statement. "I'd estimate him to be about six feet tall and very muscular; obviously a fighter. His right arm was completely covered in tattoos that I recognized as an alchemical formula from the country of Xing. We exchanged words while I tried to get out of the fight. I made the first attack and he reacted accordingly. I underestimated him and he threw me over the bridge. We fought in the water but I managed to get away, floating down the river into the sewer systems before emerging south of here at around five o'clock am. I immediately made my way back to my apartment where I received the message about this meeting. I made all haste and to get here and speak to you. That is all."

"No one has been able to escape Scar, though…" one officer said doubtfully.

"General Marcoh is one of this country's elite. She is far above the par of a normal alchemist or woman." Bradley said tonelessly. It was his polite way of saying "she's a freaking **homunculus** you fool!".

"It wasn't exactly easy. He's big and heavy but very fast," Marcoh went on, sitting back down. "It's close, but I think I could defeat him if I got a second chance. Our experience seems to be similar, at least from what I could tell. He fights like one of the Ishbalan warrior priests. I took down more than one of those during the Ishbalan campaign."

"Like a character out of a storybook. The fighters were all supposedly killed. It _was _an 'extermination' campaign." The officers present were gaining confidence with the idea of defeating Scar since one of their own had survived a confrontation.

There was a dull vibration that barely created ripples in the mugs of coffee on the table. Marcoh and the smoking major general both blinked. The other officers hadn't even noticed. It happened again and felt more like a faint shiver than anything else. "Fuhrer Bradley?" Marcoh asked, laying her palms flat on the table.

"What?" he asked impatiently, having been busy discussing the next step to take in the Scar Case.

"Can anyone else feel that?"

"Feel what?"

"Ooooh, that's not good." The smoker muttered, scooting back from the table.

"Distant explosions…" a colonel said slowly once the room had grown quiet.

"What's going on out there?" Bradley barked.

"Sir!" the door banged open. "The Elric Brothers are fighting Scar down in the business district!"

"Marcoh-" Bradley began, standing up and reaching for the telephone.

"Already on it." Marcoh said, flicking her fingers over her shoulders as her general's stars disappeared. She pounded down the hall, pulling on her gloves as she went. A slow, manic grin spread across her face. _Yes._ She thought with gruesome relish. _CARNAGE._

_

* * *

  
_

A/N: So. Only... three more chapters until this starts up new again. Which shall be posted in the next ten minutes.


	17. Chapter 17

*"Is the hunting slow?" The soft words, spoken in Xing, had an effect like a bomb going off. RanFan had a kunai in each finger before she calmed down.

"I did not know you were of this country's military," she responded, letting her eyes wander the streets of the city. A cloud of dust suddenly erupted a few alleys down. The woman who had spoken gripped a blade that had suddenly descended upon her head. Blood poured from her palms as her eyes curved at the sight of the wielder.

"Ah. Ling. It's been a while, has it not?"

"You feel even more unnatural than before," the twelfth prince said darkly, eyes narrowed more than usual. "Your blade catching is sloppy."

"I'm just out of practice. I didn't get to say 'hi', earlier. Sorry about that." Elena wiped her bloody hands off on her handkerchief. "I heard you were looking for immortality." Ling grinned toothily in reply.

"I heard you had already found it."

"If you want to know more about immortality, ask one of the older homunculi," Elena advised. "Like Envy. He's not averse to chatting with the enemy. Don't bother with Gluttony, though. He'll tell you the time and how much he loves 'Daddy', but if you need to know anything important he doesn't know what you're asking."

"Don't you look too obvious like tha-" Ling started to say to his cousin but stopped as her uniform changed. It turned stark black and the whole cut of the garment morphed, hiding her gender. A mask- identical to RanFan's- covered her face.

Blue eyes glittered behind the eyeholes. "Only you can tell us apart, Ling," Elena said as kunai melted out of her hands, made of the iron in her blood. "Good luck, Cousin."

"Good luck," Ling said in return as Elena threw herself into empty space just as RanFan twitched.

"They're here!" she hissed. "More homunculi!" Ling led the way with a grin that was as sharp as his sword.

"Let's go!"

* * *

Edward felt himself beginning to flag. Piles of bricks, wood, and metal supports that had once been buildings lay all around him. Perspiration dripped down his face and the raw scar on his forehead had opened up again, pouring blood down his face. He didn't even think of the gun that Lieutenant Hawkeye had pressed upon him. He'd fought animated suits of armor, savage chimeras, and homunculi. One savage Ishbalan should've been easy, right? But his opponent had obviously had heavy training at some point and his discipline was admirable.

While Ed huffed and puffed and clapped his hands together, the scarred Ishbalan doggedly pursued him with his destructive right arm. As much as he hated to admit it, the alchemist killer was more skilled than he and had better endurance. Plus he had years of personal vendetta against all alchemists to give him strength.

Ed missed a block and stumbled, just barely making it out of the range of the Ishbalan's destructive power. His smoldering red eyes burned holes into him, showing no mercy. Ed found that he couldn't dodge in time when a voice shouted, "ED! IT'S ONLY DECONSTRUCTION!"

"_Only deconstruction"? What the hell?_ Time slowed down as Ed met the eyes of his attacker. How anyone could look so furious yet have such a stony face was beyond him.

"Brother!"

_Alchemy is formula, deconstruction, and reconstruction._ Ed remembered suddenly. _Omit the last part and you have only destruction!_ He clapped his hands together, teeth ground together.

His automail hand met the Ishbalan's brown one, palm to palm. There was a sound like close thunder and a flash of light, blowing Ed back a few paces. His left sleeve disintegrated but his automail remained intact. He panted, grinning smugly at the Ishbalan who examined his own suddenly nonexistent sleeve. "Hah. I was cutting it close, there. Any minor miscalculation and you could've blown my arm off."

The Ishbalan was not amused and made it known by immediately going after Ed again. A black flash came between him. The Ishbalan looked down into a masked face, mad blue orbs showing through the eyeholes. His own eyes widened as she threw him into a wall.

"I killed you this morning…" he breathed. "It _is_ you, isn't it?"

"There are only so many times I can die." The woman in black settled back into a classic kung fu posture, hands held like blades and steel claws bursting from the tips of her fingers. The two met with a clash, surprisingly well-matched except for the woman's inferior size. "As I said before, avengers only know one trick."

"The same one that you State Alchemists and Military Dogs, know," the scarred man responded, hopping back from a savage swipe at his middle. "The same song that you have been playing for all of your country's history."

"Well I have nothing to do with the stuff that happened before twenty-four years ago," the woman answered, flipping back out of the way of a punch and attempting to kick his feet out from under him. "I wasn't even born then. But I was fourteen when I got my license and sixteen when I was sent into the field."

"I was seventeen when the Amestrians came to 'clean out' my city!" Two soldiers who had come to back the Elric Brothers up were annihilated with hardly more than a careless flick of the Ishbalan's hand. "If you could just accept your judgment, no one else would have to get hurt."

"That's bull!" Al shouted, unusually vulgar. He had been waiting on the sidelines and pulled his brother upright while they stayed out of the way. "You make a choice to involve other people when you go to kill state alchemists! State alchemists still have friends and family who would get in the way and get hurt trying to protect them!"

"Maybe Ed does, Al," Elena- the woman in black- said, sliding off her mask. "Most state alchemists sever all ties with family once they become serious in attaining their title. My father was a State Alchemist himself so he understood. Scar's right. We involve people because we don't want to die."

A smirk twisted the corner of her mouth unpleasantly. "But that's not exactly correct, now, is it? No one has died for me during your inane little quest, Ishbalan. I'm fully capable of dying for myself, after all." Scar's tattooed arm wrapped around her neck. She didn't fight it, grinning all the while.

"Colonel Marcoh!" Ed shouted, fighting to get loose from his brother.

"You don't believe me? Go ahead, Scar. Kill me as many times as you like if it makes you feel better. I did horrible things during the war. In fact, I was the same age as you, I guess, during the fighting. I took down a few of your warrior priest brethren all on my own, I'm rather proud to say. You fight-"

Blood and gore exploded like a pipe-bomb, spattering the nearby buildings that still managed to stay standing. "COLONEL!" Ed rushed forward with Al, clapping their hands simultaneously-

"_Haaghough…_no. Stay where you are. This really doesn't involve you at all." Elena got to her feet. Alchemical sparks darted around her joints and organs, her cloths soaked with blood. "I'm a homunculus, Scar. I'd like nothing better than to die and finally rest." She spat out a tooth and a mouthful of blood. "I'm really not that fond of state alchemists in general. Or even alchemy, really. Excusing Ed and Roy, of course; they only annoy me. But I bet you remember a big man named Basque Grand, don't you? His skin was a little darker than that of an Ishbalan's and one of his scars went right across his nose."

Elena stood up a little straighter, cracking her vertebrae back into line. Scar stared with wary eyes, looking more than a little disturbed at her regenerative abilities. "Colonel- sorry, _General_ Grand was a man I admired very much. More so than my father, I guess. He was my training officer when I first arrived in Ishbal. He must've seen how good I was with my fists and saw enough promise in me to teach me more about how to kill people with my bare hands. But it blows my mind that you just killed him, Scar. Killed him like a bug with your God-given flyswatter.

"So, go on." Her hands fell limply to her sides as she just stood there. "Kill me again and again for each Ishbalan that's died at Our hands. I can hear them screaming." She tapped herself on the chest. "I'm tired. Just take your revenge and go do what you would've been doing if you didn't have such a vendetta against us alchemists."

* * *

A/N: Not too sure what I was going for here… but this will work.


	18. Chapter 18

*****Scar raised his hand slowly, cautiously. "Colonel Marcoh what are you doing?" Ed shouted. "I was getting beat up out there just so you could go and make a big gesture?!"

"It's not a gesture, Elric," Elena said tiredly. "It's more like a release."

"But-"

"These last seven years have been more than a lifetime." Elena interrupted him, turning away from him. "I can't go on like this for another few days, let alone centuries like Envy or Pride. It just makes you so tired to know that there's so much more ahead whether you like it or not. I remember when I used to like watching the sunset or sitting out in the garden during the summer to play with the ladybugs. Everything was so much _fresher_, so much more _fleeting_. Everything had value. But it doesn't anymore. Everything looks the same now with that disgusting flavor of monotony to it. People begin to all look and act the same to my eyes and I can no longer distinguish sunrise from sunset. Spring, summer, winter, autumn, what difference does it make? _It's all the same to me_."

"But Colonel-"

"Do you think I'm going to just stand here and let him kill you?" Edward raged, drowning out his brother's supplications. "I don't think it matters to him if someone deserves to die or not!" The knuckles of his right hand grew white and his left hand creaked with the force of his clenched fists. "Scar, do you remember a pair of Amestrian Doctors?"

Both Scar and Elena froze, turning to stare at the furious boy. Elena's eyes widened, looking back at Scar. "You didn't." she breathed.

"Brother, wait-"

"They left their home and family to go and help the people of Ishbal! Even against orders they stayed and-"

"When the city was falling down around their ears they stayed." Her eyes narrowed, any hint of weariness gone in a flash. "Even your hands could not have done that." Scar didn't answer, but Elena saw the tendons standing out in his neck as he clenched his teeth, frozen by Ed's words.

"YOU KILLED THEM YOU SONUVABITCH! EVEN AFTER THEY SAVED YOUR LIFE AND YOU KILLED THEM DON'T TELL ME YOU'VE FORGOTTEN!" Ed roared.

In the dead silence that followed, a crunching footstep echoed in a partially disintegrated alleyway. Every pair of eyes turned to look at Winry, her eyes huge and her face suddenly paper-white. "What?" she asked, her voice trembling. Her eyes flicked to everyone in turn on the scene, searching for someone who would answer. "Liar…they were killed by someone they saved?" she turned to Scar who lowered his eyes, silent. "You killed my parents?" He didn't speak, but his silence was answer enough. Winry fell to her knees, ignoring the shrapnel that dug into her shins. "Why don't you deny it?" she cried. "How could you have done it? What did my parents do to deserve it?"

Ed started forward as hot, furious tears spilled down Winry's cheeks to soak her shirt collar. Her hands skittered over the ground, coming to rest on the shotgun Riza had lent Ed. He'd dropped it during the fight. "Did they force you into a situation where you had to kill them?!"

"No, Winry, stop!" Ed froze as Winry raised the gun, her arms trembling so badly that she'd be lucky if she hit the wall behind the Ishbalan, let alone score a lethal shot.

Elena felt a chill trickle down her spine. Something about the situation just felt _wrong_. How could doctors be killed by someone they helped and someone who had known the magic of delivering a new life into the world suddenly pick up an instrument of death?

"Winry, put it down!" Ed said, giving away how scared he was no matter how hard he tried to keep his voice steady. "It's not the answer."

"You shouldn't hold something like that, Winry!" Al cried, holding up his hands but afraid to do anymore.

"So you are the daughter of those doctors." Scar said quietly, unaffected by the excitement. Winry didn't answer, but her mouth trembled and her tears didn't stop. "You have the right to shoot me…"

"Shut up. Don't goad her into doing it." Elena snapped. Scar ignored her, turning his burning red eyes upon the trembling girl with the gun that shook in her hands. "However, from the moment that the bullet flies… _you will be my enemy!_"

"SCAR!" Al yelled.

"If you lay a hand on Winry I'll-"

"What. Kill me? Sure! No one can stop the circle of hatred until we're all dead!" Scar shouted right back at Edward. "But don't forget!" It was almost like he gathered vengeance about him like a cloak and his right hand crackled with energy. "It was _your_ side that started the war by shooting an Ishbalan child. Every single pair of blood-smeared hands is on _your _head, _your _debt-"

_CRACK!_

Elena stood, breathing heavily, her hand stinging from the impact. Scar blinked in disbelief, feeling the blood trickling down his cheek from the force of Elena's slap. "How _dare_ you." She whispered, eyes so pale as to be almost completely white. "How _dare_ you goad that poor girl. How _dare_ you say that it was Amestris. How _dare_ you be so petty in your hate and vengeance." She grabbed the front of his tattered shirt and dragged his face down to be level with hers with surprising strength. "_It was Jealousy that did it_." She hissed into his face for only him to hear. "_It was a Sin."_

"Winry?" Elena didn't turn to look at the girl, but she could tell that she had lowered the gun. "Don't judge him. Or me. Or anyone else. We're all just puppets." She released Scar in disgust. "All just inconsequential little meat puppets with so many strings that the puppeteer needs other puppets to do the controlling for him. He stays in the shadows while everyone else enjoys the show."

Ed gently plucked the gun from Winry's grasp. "You shouldn't be destroying things." He said quietly. "You should make them instead."

"Spite, you're being very bad!" Eyes were drawn irresistibly to the sky as something huge and black fell from it. Dust flew and concrete cracked as Gluttony hit the ground, bouncing up and down in his excitement. "I bet Father's gonna let me eat you now!"

"What are you talking about, Gluttony?" Elena demanded, putting on her most commanding and Spite-ish voice. She tossed her head, every movement speaking of contempt. "I was just keeping these sacrifices out of the Ishbalan's hands."

"Ohhhhhhh no, Spite! That's not what you're doing." Gluttony giggled, not even noticing how Ed ushered Winry out of the area. "You're a traitor, that's what you are. You're betraying Father."

He was too fast and caught Elena off-balance. His hand clamped down on her arm and yanked her towards him as his jaws closed with crushing force on her abdomen.

She screamed.

"ELENA!"

She hit the ground with a cry of pain when something crashed into Gluttony. His blood spattered the ground, mingling with the swiftly-growing pool that was her own. Scar stood over Elena, his hand smoking. He didn't look down at the girl but the unearthly screams she tried to keep muffled brought out the goose-bumps on his skin. Gluttony stumbled back from the Ishbalan's attack, moaning. "I don't feel so good…" he mumbled, a red foam forming around his mouth and dribbling to the ground. "Ugh. You taste _awful,_ Spite."

"Hey. Ishbalan." Elena tugged on the cuff of Scar's pants, trying desperately not to black out and not look at her exposed and eviscerated organs. "Aim for his chest. Sweet spot."

Scar didn't answer, instead drawing his hand back and ramming it into Gluttony with enough force to punch through the homunculus's body. But Gluttony's fat softened the impact and instead of being blasted apart, his insides were liquefied once again.

"Damn it, Ling!" Ed grabbed Elena's arm and attempted to haul her upright as Al ran forward to help Scar destroy Gluttony. "He said he was going to capture the homunculus before us! And- holy shit." He supported Elena at arm's length, unnerved with how fast his black shirt and pants became maroon and sticky. She pushed him away and straightened, clapping her hands together and slapping them down on her abdomen. The flesh healed concave as if the bones that had supported it had disappeared.

"Don't worry about me." Elena snapped. A sudden nasty smile flitted across her bloody face. "Gluttony ate all of my explosives. I keep them in my right pocket."

"So he'll explode now, right?" Ed sounded eager as he made to join in the fight.

"No. You'll need to get some fire down his gullet or another activated grena-"

The manhole at their feet blasted open, Ling sailing high into the air with his scimitar between his teeth and a grenade in one hand. "AL! MOVE YOUR ASS!" Elena bellowed, grabbing Ed and shoving him behind a pile of rubble. "YOU TOO, ISHBALAN!" They all dove for cover as Ling hit Gluttony with both feet, pulling the pin out of his bomb and shoving it down the homunculus's enormous throat. He rolled out of the way as his bomb went off with a wet _SPLAT_. It was followed shortly by a series of explosions that reduced Gluttony to a pile of quivering, smoking marrow.

"Metal wire!" Ling shouted at Ed, on his feet again and lunging forward. Ed slammed his hands down on the ground, thick ropes of cable leaping into his grip. With a speed that belied how weary he must have been, Ling tied up what was left of Gluttony as he reformed. The cables pressed cruelly against Gluttony's flesh, pressing him all out of shape.

"LING!" Elena shouted as one of Gluttony's hands shot out, snatching at the prince. Elena yanked him back by the ponytail and slammed her foot down on Gluttony's wrist. "Your timing sucks as always." She told him sourly in Xing, tying Gluttony's arm to the rest of his body.

"And _you_ haven't stopped pulling people's hair." Ling retorted. Cuts and bruises littered his visible skin. Blood was splotched all over his pants and the hilt of his scimitar was sticky with it.

"We caught it!" Al breathed in disbelief. Ed stared incredulously at the bound homunculus.

"But one last thing…" Elena didn't even flinch as the sword passed cleanly through her body.

"May I ask what that was for?" she asked her cousin with poison sweetness.

"There is a homunculus that changes shape." Ling said, stabbing his sword into the ground. "You could have been that one. But your reflex did not include killing me, so you are indeed HuiLang of the Yao Clan."

"So glad I could- wait, where's RanFan?" Ling stiffened, giving Gluttony a look of pure murder. "That's not your blood on you, is it?"

"She got away." Ling answered grimly. Elena excavated one of her many handkerchiefs and wiped off Ling's cheek with it while he scowled and jerked away. She examined the kerchief.

"Blood. Ligaments. Cartilage. Since she's not here and she's not dead... arm or leg?"

"What?"

"If it was a hand, a quick tourniquet and she'd be on your heels."

"She..." He cast a quick look in Ed and Al's direction but they paid him no heed, instead conjuring up more wire to wrap Gluttony with. "She cut off her own arm." Ling whispered in Xing, leaning closer to his cousin. "The one they call Wrath hurt her and she cut off her arm to throw off the scent."

"Stop looking like that." Elena admonished, grabbing his chin and refusing to let go as she finished scrubbing the grime from his face. "She'll be fine. I mean, look at me."

"You're not fine." he growled.

"Ah. We'll find her, all right? I know people who can keep their mouths shut _and_ I know a good automail mechanic. She'll be up and running faster than-"

_BANG!_

Blood spurted from a shotgun wound in Scar's leg as a car screeched to a halt ten feet from them, sending gravel and shrapnel flying in all directions. The driver was a blonde woman wearing glasses, the expression and brown eyes behind her spectacles familiar. Ed realized it first, mouth falling open. "Lieuten-"

"Shh!" she hissed. "Hop in!" Without a second thought, Ling and Elena grabbed Gluttony and loaded him into the back of the 514- a luxury vehicle-, hopping on just as they'd practiced with rolling logs as children.

"Retsu go!" Elena barked out harshly through a suddenly thick accent. "Kuikuri!" Leaving Ed, Al, and Scar in the dust, Hawkeye slammed her foot down on the gas-pedal and they careened away.

"General Marcoh, can you vouch for him?" Riza shouted over the screeching of tires and the screams of those they nearly ran over on their juggernaut way through the city.

"Yes! I can!" Elena cried back. "My cousin, if you can believe it."

"Just checking. I've heard from Lieutenant Breda about you, Ling Yao."

"WATCH IT!" Ling yelled, pointing. Riza jerked on the steering wheel and they managed to avoid hitting a tree, instead shooting down an alley past a crowd of soldiers.

Elena brought her hand up in a flash, attempting to avert her eyes but she couldn't look away. A single dark, lightless eye caught hers and held it for an eternity like a basilisk, unwilling to let her go. She stared back, hand falling down to grip the car for dear life. Fuhrer King Bradley- _Wrath-_ only quirked one corner of his mouth at her, dark humor evident in his craggy face. He nodded ever so slightly at her, his smirk widening when she froze in horror. _I think you need a time-out, Spite._


	19. Chapter 19

_*__He hadn't seen her in two weeks, and before then only from afar. He was slightly worried but he knew his daughter was as tough as nails. She'd been his assistant for the first few years of the war before going into active duty and climbing the ranks. If he remembered correctly, his little girl was already a first lieutenant under General Basque Grand at the age of sixteen. She was so beautiful like her mother. She sounded just like her, too; her voice so brazen and strong, ringing out and over any din that threatened to overcome it._

_He was so proud of her and her skills, but he needed to be reassured that he was doing the right thing. As far as he was concerned, his daughter could do no wrong. If she believed in the Amestrian cause, so would he. But his hands still felt dirty from making Philosopher's Stones and he couldn't get the screaming out of his head. If he could see his daughter and speak just one word to her, he'd be fine. She'd be fine. They'd all be fine, he was certain. When the combat in Ishbal was over, they could go back home and play checkers in the evening over a big pot of hot chocolate like they'd done ever since his wife had died._

_He passed by a few other soldiers on break, exclaiming over the skills of the State Alchemists and how the fighting would soon be over. He glowed with pride to know that his daughter was among one of those famed alchemists. The "Iron-Fist Alchemist", if you will. Such a strong, masculine name for such a scrawny girl._

_Ah, there she was, walking right towards him. He felt his tired eyes crease in a small smile, adding to the wrinkles in his face from the dry air and stress. He felt a stab of concern at the sight of the bloody bandage on her upper-arm and the absence of her coat, but she stood tall and her stride was confident so he assumed there was no real harm done. Her skin was brown and slightly burned from the sun and the jaunty ponytail that she had sported for years was gone, probably chopped off in the heat of combat._

_But it was her eyes that made him stop and stare. Already striking, they were nearly white set upon dark shelves. They were hollow and weary from seeing too much in only a short span of time. One was completely encircled in a black halo where someone had finally managed to land a punch on her. She was two feet from him before he found his voice and said, "Elena." She nodded absently to him, making a sketchy salute as she kept walking, no recognition at all for who he was. For what he was to her._

_How could his cause be just if it did this to the supposedly "right" side? Doctor Tim Marcoh realized. Why did he allow her to enter this place? To fight and die in this strange land so far from home? This godforsaken place where not even the sky weeps for all of the lives lost beneath it: Ishbal._

_

* * *

  
_

"Did you die or are you only sleeping?"

No answer.

He drew back his foot, contemplating what the possible repercussions would be if he gave her a friendly kick to wake her up. But, then again, his elder cousin would never consider a kick friendly, no matter what the intention. "HuiLang." She didn't even twitch as he sat down beside her on the floor, leaning against the wall. Gluttony was tied up ten feet away, muttering to himself.

They sat in silence. Riza was in the next room, cleaning her gun and making sure that RanFan kept breathing as she lay on the only bed in the run-down shack. Elena had done all she could to burn away infection- the silly girl had been running around without her arm in a _sewer_ of all places- and to stop some of the bleeding.

"I'm tired, Ling." she said, slipping back into their native tongue. "So, so tired."

"Then sleep." he answered, running a grubby cloth over the blade of his scimitar. But he knew that her kind of weariness could not be cured by any amount of physical rest.

"I try, and I try, and I try." she said, knees drawn up to her forehead. She'd kicked off her boots and undone the ties of her over-shirt. Her hair hung lank down her back and face, devoid of any luster or shine. "I try so hard and it still isn't enough. My resolve is so weak it's scaring me."

"Mmhm." he answered in a neutral tone. Why was she telling him this? Though his memory was hazy, it seemed like centuries ago when he'd first seen her. He'd been too young to sense exactly how unnatural she was, but she had still unnerved him then, nonetheless. She'd shown up in a shipment of rice. Literally _in_ the rice. But the elders of the Yao Clan had been expecting her, it seemed. His mother had warned him away from telling anyone about the strange girl in the rice. He only later learned the girl's identity to be HuiLang, her mother LaoTzeng his own mother's elder sister. She'd married an Amestrian doctor, had HuiLang, and then died before he was even born. It had irked him to watch the older Yao Clan Members greet her; some with disgust but some with sympathy and warmth, genuinely glad to see her.

But he would never forget that hunted look in her eyes. Her matted hair and glaring cheekbones, her bony fingers and twitchy movements. Everything about her just screamed "Fugitive!" and "Do not trust!". He had seriously considered telling his personal palace guards about her, but his mother had forbade him and he loved her enough to go against his childish judgment and keep his mouth shut.

Good thing, too, because no one else told such _interesting_ stories. Stories about people that could turn into any animal or person, and monsters that reached out with shadowy hands and ripped from your bed. There was even one about a monster that would devour the entire world if it could. He'd come to maybe not exactly love his cousin, but to at least love her strangeness and how alien she was to the world he'd always known. And she was one of the only people that really listened to him. His guards were tolerant but grim folk, and the servants nodded politely and said "Yes, Prince" or "No, Prince". HuiLang actually _argued_ with him! And no one _ever_ argued with a prince, no matter that he was only the emperor's twelfth son. One time she'd even had the nerve to scold him for teasing another prince until the younger boy had cried.

"I hope you're never tired." She said dully into her knees. "Never, ever, ever." Her shoulders suddenly tensed, hunching up around her ears. He was too weary to be bothered that she was probably crying.

"HuiLang…" he said carefully. He wasn't eight years old anymore, and he'd seen her so confident and so wise-assed recently that it felt strange to watch her go back to where she'd begun. Back at her broken little Square One. What would he have done if she were any other female? What if she were RanFan or Mother? What if it really was seven years ago but he was fifteen instead of eight? What would he have done?

He really didn't know. Being polite and politics and fighting were what he was familiar with, what he'd been trained for. Girls… not really. Even very strange, violent girls that he'd known forever.

"This is so stupid. Look at me." She raised her head, staring straight ahead and smirking with disgust. Her eyes were perfectly dry. "I'm falling apart. I _can't_ fall apart. If I fall apart everyone dies."

"You're not _that_ important." He told her. "You're a tiny grain of rice in a sea of them."

"You don't understand. Yes, I'm a tiny grain of rice. But I'm a tiny little _homunculus_ grain of rice. I should be able to do _something_, right? Promise me something." She grabbed his sleeve, halting the cleaning of his blade.

"Depends on what it is." He answered, squinting down the length of his sword to check for any bends or chips.

"Promise me that if you find immortality you won't use it."

"What?" It's what he'd come to Amestris for! Crossing a desert, evading Homunculi and the authorities, getting involved in a whole revolution of sorts… and not accept what he was working towards?

"_You don't want it._" She leaned in until her face was just an inch from his, desperate to make her point. He could easily see the lines around her eyes and mouth and how dry and papery her skin looked. Dark circles surrounded her pale eyes. "Ling¸ you have to believe me. It will destroy you. Everything you hold dear will just be _gone_. Nothing will matter anymore. Not people, not things, not events. _Nothing_. It will all be the same do you understand me?" She tried to shake him for emphasis but she was trembling too much. Her hand was pure ice on his wrist. "It will all just be too much and you'll turn into me. You'll do anything and be anybody. You won't be _you_ anymore."

Elena released him, leaning back against the wall with a tired _thunk_. "I can't watch your ass anymore, either. I've been found out." She smiled crookedly. "Sorry 'bout that."

"They saw you?" Ling stared at her, mouth falling open. He remembered the punishments for treason in Xing and the screaming as people were torn apart or burned or lynched or-

"Yup." She sounded oddly calm. Elena let out a great sigh like dusty air being forced from an ancient bellows. "Finally. This was giving me wrinkles before my time. I wonder what my punishment will be…. Maybe Father will just lock me up, but that's unlikely. You know there's this big vat he has deep underground with tubes coming out of it. He's actually hooked up to those tubes and the vat's more like a cauldron and it's filled with this weird potiony stuff and I saw a chimera get thrown in there once and it was _screaming_ and hissing and its skin bubbled and-"

"Stop." Ling ordered, feeling ill. "You sound too eager." Elena shrugged.

"Sorry."

"No you're not."

"Hehe." She chuckled. "You're right, I'm not sorry at all. I just want you to know what will happen to you if you don't get your ass back to Xing right now. Sorry I won't be able to help you anymore. Don't you want to be Emperor someday?"

"Don't you want to be human someday?" Ling shot back, resuming the cleaning of his sword. He paused when Elena became oddly still.

"You know, I don't remember what it was like." She said finally.

"It's not very impressive." Ling replied. "If you fall and cut your knee the skin stays broken and you have a scab for a week. You get ill and your nose runs and you become feverish. You grow old and die after lingering the last ten years or so with rheumatism and failing senses."

"It all sounds so temporary." Her voice was filled with a quiet sense of awe and wonder.

"Temporary in every sense of the word." He confirmed. "I am chasing immortality while you yearn for just the opposite."

"You don't realize just how valuable something is until you lose it." Elena said so quietly that Ling almost did not hear her.

* * *

AN: YES! NEXT CHAPTER IS NEW!


	20. Chapter 20

*There was the low growl of a motor outside, growing closer. A faint click announced Riza cocking the hammer back on her gun in the next room. "Who is it?"

"What?" Ling was straining his ears to listen.

"You can tell if someone is human or homunculus. I lost that skill when I became what I am now."

"Three… _four_ humans, I think. I can sense four human spirits. But your Fuhrer's seeming is that of a human. He makes things tricky."

There was a murmur of voices outside, followed by the slamming of car doors. "Well I'll be." Elena said, standing up suddenly and pushing through the doorway. "That sounds like Doctor Knox."

Riza was flat against the door that lead outside, gun up. She jerked her head towards the voices that were growing louder. Elena nodded, mouthing, "Roy." She inched the door open a few inches and peered out. She waved to the shapes in the darkness. "Quickly!" she hissed. "Doctor Knox, we need to hurry."

"Is everyone in on this but me?" The irate old man muttered before he stepped inside the shack, eyes adjusting to the single kerosene lamp burning on the table beside RanFan's bed. Roy Mustang, Edward Elric, and Alphonse Elric slid through the door after him. With a last furtive look, Elena closed it firmly and sealed it with alchemy.

"Will she be all right?" Ling hovered over RanFan anxiously, Doctor Knox immediately setting to work. Roy and Riza were deep in conversation as she showed him Gluttony in the next room. Ed and Al looked on grimly.

"Young lady, bring the lamp closer." Doctor Knox ordered, peering closely at RanFan's crudely bandaged shoulder. The girl was lost in fever and pain.

Elena complied, holding the lamp high. Doctor Knox uttered a grunt of thanks, glancing up before examining his patient again. His double-take would have been comical if the situation hadn't been so serious. "Colonel Marcoh!" he sputtered. "I mean… General Marcoh! What are you doing here?"

"Apparently, I'm doing what everyone else is doing: hiding." Elena answered. "Long time no see, Doctor. How've you been? No ciggie, I see."

"You died in Ishbal. I performed the autopsy myself." Doctor Knox said, brows furrowed behind his square glasses. His frown appeared deeper than it was, due to his five o'clock shadow.

"Apparently you haven't gotten the memo. I was resurrected with a Philosopher's Stone as a homunculus and hid for seven years with my family in Xing before finally traipsing my way back to the hell-hole called Amestris out of sheer curiosity where I was prodded and stabbed by a number of different people then reinstated as a Lieutenant Colonel at Central and as a double-agent to Mustang's cause."

Knox stared at Elena for a moment longer before turning away with a grunt. "Marcoh always had a strange sense of humor. Goes to show you'd be no different."

"Will. She. Be. All. Right?" Ling repeated in a tense, highly irritated voice. RanFan's knuckles were white on his, the tendons standing out on the back of her hand.

"You say she was running around in a sewer?" Knox said, peeling away the bandages.

"Yes."

"Now why the hell would she be doing that!?"

"We were escaping and we split up." Ling said tightly, eyes dark. He obviously felt great guilt over the incident.

"What cut her arm off? It's a clean wound. Professional, even."

"It was cut off with a kunai- what you'd call a throwing dagger. She was first wounded by a sword."

"The wound's still pretty clean, amazingly. I can't even tell that the wound was exposed to bad air. Did you disinfect it?"

"HuiLang did." Ling said. Knox gave him an uncomprehending look before Ling explained, "Elena cleaned the wound and stopped the bleeding."

"See, I _am _useful sometimes." Elena muttered. "Doctor Knox, can I help?"

"You say you cleaned the wound and stopped the bleeding?" Knox reached reflexively to puff on a cigarette he didn't have.

"Yessir."

"How?"

"Alchemy. I learned a small amount of the Rekinjutsu style of alchemy when I was in Xing."

"Are you squeamish?"

Elena frowned, eyebrows at vastly different levels. "Mr. Knox, I just got my cover blown and am likely to be taken apart in several nasty, inhumane ways _and_ I've spent years beating the shit out of people. Squeamish. Really."

"Fine then. Hold her shoulder down. Young man, grab the young lady's feet and make sure you don't get kicked in the face. She's not totally delirious from a fever brought on by infection, so she'll be feeling this."

The screaming was bad, but Elena had heard far worse. She just hoped that Ed (or, more likely, Al) had thought to seal the walls so that little sound escaped.

* * *

They sat around brooding an hour later, Riza and Elena out on guard.

This left Elena alone with her thoughts and enough time to puzzle through them.

She had settled herself flat-bellied on the roof of the rundown house, listening to the crickets. Winter was coming, and the insects chirping were letting everyone know it. _It's so freaking cold..._ She shivered, pulling the overcoat she had borrowed from Roy tight around her shoulders. _Cold is death to anyone with automail._ In Xing, the frosts would be creeping across the plants in the Yao Clan Estate's garden. The kangaroo rats in northern Xing would be hunkering down in their burrows, the snakes curled so tightly that they were almost eating their tails….

Ouroboros. The spot between her shoulder-blades itched with the mere thought of the dragon that devoured its own tail. She snarled silently, hand coming to rest on her left side. The skin stretching over the bones scraped and chafed against the sharp metal edges whenever she moved. She'd have to consult someone about fixing that sometime soon. She heard a creak and quickly rolled off of the roof, taking some shingles with her.

"Colonel Marcoh?" Riza had heard the noise and had come to investigate.

"I'm fine. Sorry. I'm too heavy for the roof." Elena got to her feet, wincing as her ribs pierced through her skin then healed again. They stood in silence. "Lieutenant Hawkeye, what do you think of homunculi?"

"We should remain alert." Riza answered, peering down the length of her rifle. Elena frowned, eyes narrowing as she detected the avoidance of the question.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye. Answer me."

"Lieutenant Colonel Marcoh-" Riza met the younger woman's eyes unflinchingly. "-sometimes the truth is not the best thing to say. With all due respect, no one knows whether to treat you as the teenager you look or the general you were buried as. Still more confusion is added to those of us who know that you are a homunculi and the small trust some of us have built up has been severely lessened by the knowledge of your actions as a double-agent. I find it hard to trust you when you are made of the same things as that monster tied up inside." Riza jerked her head in the direction of the house.

"Ah." Elena said, closing her eyes with a show of feigned indifference. "So that's how it is. Al doesn't seem to have this problem."

"Alphonse-kun is a human soul bound in a suit of armor. He is still human, in a matter of speaking."

"Wouldn't that be racist?" Elena asked lightly, her eyes glittering. "Or speciesist or something?" Riza's expression didn't change.

"I have a dog. I'd trust him with a gun more than a homunculus."

"Even a half-assed homunculus?"

"A homunculus is a homunculus. Don't think you're different just because you don't want it. Enemy officers don't remain long in our ranks. Choose a side instead of serving both. Don't smile and stab at the same time. It may not be you _now_, but it will be. That's reality." And she walked off, completely alert to her surroundings as she went around the side of the house.

* * *

A/N: Reality check from Riza. Yikes. I respect that woman and so (though grudgingly), does Elena.


	21. Chapter 21

*A/N: This chapter has some implied brutality on the part of Spite towards Envy and vice-versa. I don't describe it in detail, but I'm leaving it up to your imagination to elaborate upon as much as you like. Also, The f-word appears but nothing major. Enjoy. Hopefully, I will be off of hiatus from now on.

_I have to do something._ She thought, watching a woman she had come to respect walk away. _They don't trust me. Can I still help them? I can't even help myself... but I have nothing left to lose!_ "Wait, Lieutenant Hawkeye!"

A huge blast of light lit up Riza's outline in stark relief as pure energy crackled mere inches from her nose, cleanly vaporizing the barrel of her rifle. "Ah-!" She stared in horror at the trench before her and the large hole in the side of the building where Gluttony had been kept. "Colonel Mustang!" she shouted, stepping down into the trench.

"Lieu-" Elena lunged forward, grabbing the older woman's coat and yanking her out of the way of another energy blast.

"**Mustang killed lust...**" Someone snarled, gnashing their teeth in fury. "**BAD Colonel Mustang**!"

"Lieutenant Hawkeye, wait until Gluttony's gone and then take RanFan, Doctor Knox, and the Colonel away in the car." Elena whispered in a strangely calm voice. "You don't have to trust me, but you should know what I speak is true. Roy's hurt, Knox is useless in combat, and RanFan is half-dead. No one will find you at Knox's place, I should think."

"Ma-" Riza began but Elena rolled down into the trench, feeling her tattoo burn.

"**Hey, Gluttony**!" She called nastily in a grating voice. Her eyes were so pale that they practically glowed in the dark. "**GLUTTONY! Over here, FAT-ASS**!** Lust was a whore, you moron! She got what was coming!**" She fell back when another blast of energy threatened to gobble her up.

"**SPITE! You killed Lust!**" Gluttony barreled out of the ruins of the house, a slit running from his mouth down his stomach lined with scything ribs like teeth. Spite swerved, letting him pass and easily tripping him up.

"**I could use some help here!**" she called. Ling hopped down into the trench while Doctor Knox and Al carried RanFan, Roy and Ed covering their retreat.

"She is not gone, right?" Ling asked Spite, a hard look in his eyes. Spite gave him a lazy grin.

"**I don't know who you're talking about.**" she lied. "**You over-react too much. Let's just work together, shall we?"** She held out her hand. Ling didn't even look at it.

"If she is gone, I will have no reason NOT to _kill you_." he growled. Spite feigned a yawn.

"**Yeah, whatever. You humans are funny that way with your 'reasons'. I scratch your back and you scratch mine, deal?**" They attempted to crush each other's fingers, Spite grinning maniacally while Ling's face was stoney.

"Deals with devils." He spat, drawing his scimitar.

"**Deals with homunculi!**" Spite corrected, taking off into the forest and bashing Gluttony over the head as she streaked past. "**NYAH NYAH!**" She blew a large raspberry at him, waggling her fingers and pulling faces at the larger homunculus. "**You can't catch me, FATSO!**"

"Does aggravating him really help?" Ling and Spite were pressed against the far side of a tree of a tree ten minutes later. Ling was struggling for breath, limbs weighed down with weariness. Spite seemed as fresh as a daisy, though.

"**No. Name-calling doesn't have much effect on him. It makes **_**me**_** feel better, though. FullMetal and Al at three o'clock with Gluttony. Wish me luck!"**

She stepped out from behind the tree, signaling Al and Ed. They flashed past her while Gluttony rampaged after them. "**Let's see. Humus, quartz, carbon, sand...**" Spite muttered to herself before clapping her hands and slamming her fist into the ground. A huge spiked wall rose up. Gluttony was going too fast and was too far into berserker mode to stop and avoid it.

"Eauch." Ed wiped off the blood and gore that had spattered onto his face.

"**Was there anyone else?**" Spite demanded. "**Father would never send Gluttony out alone. I'd say Envy isn't far behi-"**

"There!" Ling pointed out deeper into the tree. There was a steady _crunch-crunching _and a definitely unnatural presence. Gluttony pried himself off of the wall as a horse plodded towards them.

"A horse?" Al muttered, tinny voice nervous. The horse stopped and regarded them with feral yellow eyes. It bowed its long neck, back arching. Heat lightning crackled along its body, obscuring its suddenly-shifting outline.

"Heh. Long time no see." Envy drawled, cracking his vertebrae into a more humanoid line.

"**Envy."** Spite said warmly, regarding her personality double. "**So good of you to finally get off your ass and join us.**"

"Watch it, Spite. Your bitch-slip is showing." He snapped back. "Gluttony! Stop it."

Gluttony stumbled back a few paces when he finally managed to get himself off of the spiked wall. "**But Envy...**" he whined. "**I wanna eat them!**"

"No, you can't. We need the FullMetal Bean and his brother, remember?" Envy made a face at the thought of eating some nasty little boy that stunk of gear-oil.

Spite sighed. "**He called you 'BEAN', Elri-**"

"DON'T CALL ME SMALL!" Ed bellowed.

"Whoa. Hold on there." Envy said, sensing the coming storm. "C'mon, Full Metal Shorty, let's be reason-"

"AND THAT'S THE FIFTH TIME YOU'VE CALLED ME SHORT!" Ed roared, swinging at Envy's head. Envy yelped and ducked.

"Wait, I didn't come here to fight-" He began, but he had to avoid a spinning kick to his ribs.

"TWICE JUST NOW!" Ed's chest heaved as he glared daggers at Envy, his teeth ground down into a furious snarl. "AND THREE TIMES IN THE FIFTH LABORATORY! DON'T TELL ME YOU FORGOT?"

"Nii-san, don't provoke him!" Al caught Ed's arm before the blond could launch himself- though injured- at the homunculus.

"I'm just here to pick up Gluttony." Envy leaned on the shorter Sin that ambled up to stand beside him, teeth-like ribs splitting his stomach. He yawned in a bored fashion before smiling lazily at Spite. "But you've been a very, very bad girl, Spite."

"**Awww, in a GOOD way?**" Spite asked, poisonously sweet. She propped her hand on her hip, smiling back just as easily. "**Come on, Envy. Enlighten us.**"

"I don't need you to play your stupid little games with me." Envy snapped.

"**Oooh, not even the FUN games?**"

"SPITE! SHUT YOUR GOD DAMNED PIE-HOLE AND LISTEN TO ME!" Envy suddenly roared. He sucked in another deep breath to go on in a quieter tone. His voice still managed to crackle with barely-suppressed manic energy, though. "You're a traitor. You've already signed your death-warrant by fighting me. It was you in the black and mask, right? I can tell by the eyes." Spite's smile was gone. "Your eyes are always the same. You make excuses like you're two different people. I never believed your bipolar shit. That 'Elena' you like to call yourself isn't any different from 'Spite'. You're pure, lab-grown abomination just like us-"

His words were cut off as he collapsed onto the ground, coughing blood. He spat out a few loose teeth. Spite stood over him, steel knobs spreading over her knuckles like a set of brass-knuckles. "**Don't. You. Ever. Say. That.**" She said quietly. "You rat bastard. I was actually BORN, you hear me?" But Envy had suffered the indignity of being beaten by Spite long enough. He grabbed her ankle with one hand, twisting it and slamming her into the dirt.

"Gluttony, you can eat Squinty-Eyes but leave the Elrics, all right? Swallow him WHOLE!" he ordered. His fingernails dug into Spite's neck as he pinned her to the ground. She gurgled curses at him.

"HUILA-" Ling began, attempted to go to the aid of his cousin.

"LING, WATCH OUT!"

"All on your own without your little buddies to help you." Envy drew back his fist, savoring the look of absolute hatred in Spite's eyes. "Without your _family_." Blood spattered his face. He caught a drop of it with his tongue, letting the coppery tang make his mouth tingle. He wanted _more _of it.

"**You've got Doctor Marcoh."** Spite wheezed, face going blue as she strove fruitlessly for air. She struggled to throw the other homunculus off but he was far, _far_ heavier and stronger than he looked without the help of gravity on her side. She could see his eyes going manic, what little control he had on his sanity starting to come loose as he tapped into his true form. "**You've-**"

Her eye swelled shut then went down again as she glimpsed sparks of alchemy. Her skull cracked then reformed, nose broke then healed. She knew Envy would keep at it until all of the energy in her Stone was gone. He was unstoppable once he got that look in his eyes. _**Is that how I look when I kill people, too?**_

_**Let me take over.**_ Spite squeezed her eyes shut. _**Let me save us.**_

_Not on your life._ Elena snarled in reply. _I'll never see the light of day again if I let you. You'll run berserker._

_**I gain nothing if you disappear. I go through bodies too quickly to not need you to keep this one running.**_

_You're not exactly preaching to the choir._ Elena was briefly deafened by Spite's scream of agony. With Spite the dominant consciousness at the moment, the pain was lessened for Elena. But she could get a sense of the magnitude of it all from her alter-ego.

_**LET ME TAKE OVER. I CAN'T STAND THIS ANYMORE! I'll give you your body back if you please, PLEASE let me use my power!**_

Was she... begging? A quick peek back into Spite's memories- intermingling with her own- answered an unspoken fear. _You're all alone without me._

_**Hurry up and just let me fucking take over!**_

Elena slid to the very back of her mind, watching Spite hesitate. _Go on. Take it._ Elena said. _You need me, and if you take over fully I disappear. But don't you _dare_ hurt my people, got it? Good luck._

Spite tuned Elena out as she rose again into the pain and fiery agony that was now _her_ body. Her eyes snapped open as pitch black sclera and electrically blue-white pupils stretched from the top lid to the bottom in a vicious slit. "**Bad move.**" She hissed. Her joints popped and snapped, slicing through her flesh to grow into long blades. Her vertebrae spiked through her skin, making her appear like some prehistoric nightmare.

She spat blood out of her mouth as the shreds of her trousers and shirt fluttered to the ground to mix in with the bloody sludge. Luckily, her black tunic and shorts-- a kind of homunculus uniform, if you will-- could stand up to anything her powers threw at them. Envy lay gasping in pain on the ground. When Spite's body and bones had decided to go against nature he had been too close. While he was both immortal and had a regenerating body like hers, steel could slice his flesh, bones, and organs alike just as easily as it could a human's.

Spite rolled her head, cracking her neck. "**Get up.**" She ordered. Envy responded only with verbal abuse. Spite kicked him viciously until he subsided into agonized gasps. "**Take me to Doctor Marcoh****.**" Spite said coldly. "**I know you have him. He was the first on your list, wasn't he? You have him and I want him NOW. Got it?**" Envy was about to say something smart-assed when his eye caught something that made him gasp with panic.

"GLUTTONY STOP!" he yelled. Spite spun around. Ling was on one knee being pulled to his feet by Ed. Gluttony was leaning back slightly, the fire of his voracious appetite ready to be unleashed.

"**LING-!**" Spite felt some vestige of Elena in her scream but she could only watch in horror as Envy pushed her back, lunging to yank Ed out of the way.

Gluttony got them all. Every. Last. One.

His ribs began to withdraw, the slit in his belly closing up. A few trees whose trunks had been partially devoured cracked and fell into the trench left by Gluttony's greed. "Oops." He said, back to normal. "I ate them."

"NII-SAN!" Al screamed. He grabbed Gluttony, shaking him. "YOU HAVE TO LET HIM GO!"

"I can't." Gluttony whined. "Once they're in my tummy, they can't get out."

"No, you can't… Brother can't be gone! I'll make you let him go-" Al cried.

"You can't." Gluttony told him simply.

"How can that be!"

"I don't know where the stuff I eat goes. To my tummy, I guess. But where is my tummy?" Gluttony poked his belly. "They say my tummy is Hell."

"But my brother-!"

"In my tummy. No way out, nope."

Al fell to his knees, slamming his fists into the ground.

"_NIIIII-SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!"_


	22. Chapter 22

*A/N: From now on until I say otherwise, Spite's words will not be in bold print as I am sure your eyes are getting tired of them. The bold was a way of distinguishing Elena from Spite. This also marks where Elena ceases to be the only main character as Spite becomes more of an individual. Elena's fear of being taken over has now abated, now that she knows that Spite needs her. Spite lives in the Stone but only Elena can use it. Does that make any sense?

And a note on Narcissa and Angst: two random homunculi I made up a while ago who have a very strange friendship. They show that you have to stick together and that no matter your situation, there's always someone worse off than you. In Inner-Metal, they're just random homunculi I'm counting off to start some conversation and to show what happens if you're defective and not needed.

* * *

Spite let her bones retract back into their normal shapes. She sensed no threat from Gluttony any longer as he watched Al uncertainly. The scene was strangely peaceful with the sun rising and the birds starting up their morning chorus. "Alphonse?" Spite asked. A tiny part of her body that still retained a sense of its previous occupant ached in the region of her chest. "Come on, Alphonse. Get up."

Al didn't answer, his head bowed in silence like a meditating monk. "You're not going to eat me?" She asked Gluttony. Gluttony shook his head.

"I ate Envy and the human sacrifice." he said in a nervous voice. "I don't think I'm s'posed to eat anybody else right now." Spite sighed, unspeakably weary.

"Good boy." she muttered, patting Gluttony's bald head. "Alphonse, talk to me."

"Brother promised he was going to get our bodies back." Al murmured. "I'm stuck like this, now, Elena. I'm stuck like you."

"You're not stuck like _me_." Spite sat back on her heels, crouching down to look up through Al's visor. It was amazing how much emotion could be contained in just two spots of light. "I wanted this."Al's light-spots dimmed.

"You're a homunculus. Who are you?"

"My name is Spite." Spite resigned herself to wearing proverbial kid gloves. "Elena and I are sharing office-space, if you will. Now get up off your ass and tell the Colonel what's going on. C'mon, Alphonse."

"Where do the things that Gluttony eats go?" Al asked, his voice almost too quiet for Spite to hear.

"I don't know. Come on, I can't carry you."

"You're one of Them. You _have_ to know!"

"I'M NOTHING." Spite said forcefully. "But whatever gets into Gluttony's stomach, Father will probably know where it goes."

"Yes! Father knows _everything_." Gluttony butted in eagerly.

"Then take me to him."

Spite blanched. "NO. I don't even know where he is."

"Spite, you're a liar." Gluttony stuck out his bottom lip petulantly. "But I know where Daddy is. Will he be happy if I bring you...?"

"Yes!" Al jumped to his feet, ignoring Spite's protests. "Yes, your father will be very happy if you take me."

"Alphonse, what are you doing?" Spite had to trot to keep up with the suit of armor as he strode after Gluttony. "Go tell the Colonel."

"_You_ go tell the Colonel." Al retorted.

"He won't believe me!"

"EXACTLY."

"Hey!" Spite snarled.

_Spite, hold on. Let me-_

_**No. I don't like where this is going.  
**_

"Stop being a dick and listen to me. DON'T GO TO FATHER. Didn't the 'human sacrifice' part freak you out at least a little?"

"Can you hear me not listening to you?" Sometimes, Al was a little too much like his brother for comfort.

"LISTEN TO ME." Spite stepped in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. She glared up at him. "I'm trying to keep you from being KILLED."

"You should have nothing to fear from your father. And I'm a 'human sacrifice', as you said. He needs me." Al just went around her.

"Don't you say something like 'Fear'. You couldn't possibly understand _that_." Spite snapped with infinite disdain. "It's YOU imbeciles that I have to keep alive."

"Is it possible for you to speak without being insulting?"

"Ah-" Spite tried to come up with something clever. "No."

"What's a more believable reason for you and Elena to help us?" Spite answered without hesitation.

"It's my name. I'm helping you because I despise Father and Wrath a little more than I do you. I'd do anything to foil whatever plan they've got cooking up now. Out of sheer _spite_ am I still here. And Elena wants to help you because she's such a damn sap and actually likes you."

_Thanks a lot. _Elena's sarcasm was biting--

_**You're welcome. --**_but lost on the equally snippy homunculus.

"Gluttony-"

"I know." Gluttony said cheerfully. "But they won't follow us anymore."

"What?" Al looked glanced around warily. "Who won't follow us?"

"It's that crazy Ishbalan with some mini girl-creature in tow." Spite spat. "And why are you bringing that thing with us?!" A tiny panda-- about the size of a small cat-- was perched on Al's shoulder. It growled at Spite.

"The poor thing could get eaten by a dog if I leave it behind." Al said, a hint of a whine in his voice.

"WHATEVER! I don't care-"

"Spite, shush!" Gluttony admonished, leading them down the entrance to a sewer tunnel. "Don't disturb the guards!"

"Oh, yes, I wouldn't want to disturb _them_." Spite said sarcastically. As they went deeper and deeper, all natural light was extinguished as the tunnels were lit with an eerie, subterranean glow. The grate over their heads, however, burned with dozens of pairs of eyes ranging in hue from yellow to blood red. Spite's mouth tightened when she saw the blood splatters on the wall, accompanied by fragments of bone and a crushed skull.

"Uwah! What's that?" Al cried in horror. The tiny panda clung to his helmet, shaking violently.

"I'd imagine it's the equivalent of a 'Beware of Dog' sign." Spite said too-patiently. "So messy."

"The door guard must've done it." Gluttony didn't look concerned at the mangled people-parts. "But they won't kill you if you're with me."

"Charming. They like you." Spite clenched her fists until her fingernails bit into her palms, making them bleed. Sweat beaded her forehead and the back of her neck yet her arms were covered in goose bumps. She half-expected the shadows to begin twisting and turning but, thankfully, they didn't. _**Fear, if you're in here, don't jump out at me or I am going to kick your ass.**_ She thought grimly.

"Hey, Gluttony, what happened to Narcissa and Angst?" Spite asked suddenly. Gluttony glanced back her.

"Who?"

"You know, Narcissa. Ouroboros on her palm and too much makeup. And the skinny brat, Angst. The two cast-offs. You remember them, right?"

"Oh." Gluttony's voice was tiny and Spite got a sick feeling in her gut. "They're gone."

"'Gone'?" Alphonse wanted to clarifiy.

"Father took them back."

A chill raced down Spite's back. It was all she could do to keep from bristling with steel shards like a porcupine. "Like Greed?"

"Yup! Father didn't need them anymore." Gluttony grinned brightly into the darkness. "But Daddy needs _me_. And I think he needs you too, Spite, if you stop being bad."

"Who are Naricissa and Angst? _More_ of you?" Alphonse didn't like the idea of more homunculi. Spite made a sound of disgust.

"Petty homunculi. Mistakes. Father's human transmutation doesn't always come out perfectly. Narcissa was like a really weak Greed, but Father wanted something stronger. Narcissa refused to take orders. She couldn't see beyond her own self. I had no idea what Father was going for with Angst, but the brat was just pitiful. Anyway, they kept their noses clean and ran around in the sewers here without bothering anyone. They were laughable homunculi. Nice enough in their own way, but the oddest pair I've ever seen. What a nasty way to go. NOW do you understand why I didn't want to come back, Alphonse? Elena only gets fired if she doesn't do her job. _I_ get destroyed."

Al didn't answer, lost in the implications of being taken apart for disobeying.

"We're heeeee-eeer!~" Gluttony came to a wall, throwing back the huge doors in it. "Father I'm back!"

"What! This is your father? Ah! I'm not ready to meet-" Alphonse stopped dead, catching sight of the room. A long staircase curved around the back wall, a white-robed figure slowly coming down it.

"Guests...?" It asked in a low voice.

"Ah!" Spite looked quickly to Alphonse, seeing what caused his exclamation.

"What is it?" She hissed, feeling cold sweat running down the back of her neck.

"_Hoenheim?"_

_

* * *

  
_

A/N: Another week and another update. Christmas is on Thursday. Wowza. My typing may be hindered by the making of food-gifts this holiday season. There's another chapter or so I've already got written, but if you have any ideas or things you want to see? Let me know. Seriously. I am so open to suggestion that I am nearly inside-out (wow. That sounded weird). I'm not exactly sure how this will end. But that all depends on what Arakawa-sensei has planned, ne?


	23. Chapter 23

_*__No. STAY._

Spite was frozen in place, pupils contracting in fear.

_Don't run! Who's going to back up Al, then?_

_**I don't care! Did you hear what they said about Narcissa and Angst? They were useless! They didn't have any orders TO disobey! And he killed them. What Father going to do to me since I actually AM disobeying, not just being obsolete?**_

_We can use alchemy to get out of here._

_**No, we can't.**_

_What do you mean?_

_**Can't you feel that?**_

Spite's eyes were trained on the figure descending the stairs, her body frozen stiff with fear. _**That… PRESENCE. We're trapped. And He's behind it all.**_

She felt something spatter her left side. She looked over slowly, recognizing the feeling of blood sliding down her arm. She stared in surprise at Gluttony. His own beady eyes were wide as he felt the rip in his stomach. It quickly healed with alchemy, but blood was running down his legs to pool on the floor.

"Wha-" He suddenly doubled over as a single eye appeared sideways in his stomach. He heaved and choked, clutching his belly. The eye was blood-shot, rolling wildly as tears ran down its lid.

"Get down!" Spite threw herself at Al, knocking him sideways and ignoring the tiny little black-and-white cat-creature sinking its teeth into her shoulder. Blood exploded and something _roared._

"_URAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!_"

A huge shadow loomed overhead and Spite and Al rolled out of the way just in time. A gigantic monster made up of the bodies of other creatures—Envy in his true form—slammed into the ground, striving for air. Lost in his many limbs and the screaming faces lining his abdomen, a few arms and legs stuck out that didn't belong. Al plunged in, lifting his brother free of Envy's sprawling form.

_Where's Ling?_

The girl-homunculus spotted a pair of soft-soled shoes flailing not too far away. Without a care for Envy, she climbed over one of his massive paws and grabbed onto a human leg, pulling it until an abdomen, arms, and a head popped free. "You look like shit on a stick." Spite told her body's cousin, letting go of him when she saw that nothing looked too broken.

"And you are still here." He said, scowling. "Where are we? It's dark. Is it night time-"

"You!"

They snapped around to watch Ed and Al confront the robed figure. It was a man, maybe in his forties or early fifties. His straggly blond hair and unkempt appearance made him seem much older.

"This is a strange occurrence…" he murmured, as if to himself. "Humans coming out of his stomach…?"

"Hoenheim!" Ed gasped, Al searching for words. They both stared in dumbfounded amazement at the man.

"Hmm? A metal arm and leg… the suit of armor…" He suddenly bent down, thrusting his face to within an inch of Ed's. "Are you the Elric Brothers?"

"You're not… him?" Ed said slowly, as if speaking to someone very old or very young.

"Aren't you mistaking me for someone else? No, wait… Do you mean _Van Hoenheim?_ What is your relationship to him?"

"He's our father." Al said, a tad nervous at the man's enthusiasm.

"So he's had children! I'm surprised!" The man crowed in delight, straightening and chortling. "Are you injured? Your brother is missing a hand."

"Wait, I don't get it. How do _you_ know him? How come you look like him-" Ed began to demand but the man had gone into motion, flicking his fingers across Al's wrist. A steel hand grew anew upon the stump. Father planted his hand on Ed's abdomen, his ribs healing in a flash and his broken arm mending with a _crack_. Ed opened his mouth to object but the man's eyes—pale gold like Ed's—had come to rest upon Spite.

"Spite." His voice was a good deal less warm than when he had spoken to the Elrics.

"Er… Father." Spite said, forcing words around a suddenly numb tongue.

"Come forward."

Her legs began to move of their own accord but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. Ling's side bled sluggishly, blending into the grime of his clothing, and he held a scimitar—different from his usual one—in one hand. With the other he held Spite back. "That's my cousin's body you're in." he said, teeth gritted together. Spite could smell the fear on him as he began to perspire, the sweat carving trails through the blood on his face. "I don't care about _you_ but you can't do whatever you want with her body. And to go any closer to _that…_What _are_ you?" He stared at the Hoehnheim look-alike as if too horrified to speak. Spite unintentionally moved a hair closer to him, edging into Father's view of Elena's cousin.

"Unbelievable…. What is with your insides?" Ling cried. He levered his scimitar at Father, hand shaking violently. "WHAT JOKE IS THIS?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Father said in an even colder voice. "Gluttony you may eat him."

"No!" Ed and Spite shouted at the same time.

"He's my friend!" Ed stepped in front of Ling, looking panicked. "Please, for my sake. He's my friend."

"It doesn't matter. He's useless to me." Father said.

"He's Elena's family." Spite said loudly, swallowing back her fear. Father stared at her, unused to subordination.

"Who?"

"Elena Marcoh. She's the girl whose body I'm wearing… Father."

_What are you doing? Grab them and get out of here!_

_**They'll be killed if we run like this.**_

"Are you... in communication with her?" Father asked incredulously.

"Yes."

"Then get rid of her immediately. The human is clouding your judgment. You were taken from me by Doctor Marcoh. He stole one of my children to resurrect his own. Don't let her control you."

"She's not controlling me." Spite snapped, a nasty light in her eyes. Her chin jutted out aggressively and she squared her shoulders; much like Elena's own mannerisms. She stepped forward, shouldering roughly past Ed. "And neither are you."

"You were always rebellious." Father said, his lip curling with intense distaste. "Freedom has made you bold. You've forgotten how to keep your tongue behind the barrier of your teeth."

"NO." Spite roared, her voice erupting as if from a much larger frame. "All the way here I was _terrified_ of confronting you!"

_Spite, stop it-_

"Were Narcissa and Angst 'rebellious'?" She asked in a poisonous voice, stopping just out of arms' reach of the lead homunculus.

"They were inconsequential."

"Weren't they your 'Children' too?" Spite demanded, hands planted on her hips and her head high. She wouldn't be cowed, though Father's eyes were growing more distasteful by the second.

"Spite, that girl has too much control over you." His said wearily. "You've probably grown fond of her these past few years, but it's got to stop. That's Stockholm Syndrom where you sympathize with your captor or enemy."

"Your point is?" Spite's eyes narrowed, smelling something not quite right.

"Quit yapping and get him!" She flinched, turning around to glare at Ed.

"Shut your pie-hole, pipsqueak." Envy sneered, getting to his many feet.

"Bad word-choice." Spite smirked, stepping out of the way of a burst of alchemy that ripped up the floor.

_My turn._

_**Have fun.  
**_

Elena clapped her hands together, slamming them down onto the ground. Steel cables leapt up, snaking around Envy's legs like climbing ivy. Ed and Al did the same, sending great walls of cement and yards of cable at Father.

Elena shuddered as Spite retreated fully to the back of her mind. The sensation was… unpleasant. She twisted around to see Envy ripping free of his prison. A sick pain alerted her to her steel ribs stabbing through her flesh. She snarled, slapping her hand down on the jagged metal. They grew and smoothed out, curving around her lungs like normal ribs.

She reached out, catching Ling's coattails as he dashed by. "If you must do something, help!" he snapped, yanking his borrowed coat out of her grip.

She pulled a scimitar the twin of his out of the ground, leaping into action. She raised it in an overhead chop, meeting Father's pale eyes in defiance while Ling attacked from behind. A huge fist of cement slammed into Ling's already broken ribs, his eyes bulging as he coughed up blood. "LING-" Elena twisted in mid-air, avoiding a similar fist that would have dented her steel skull. She took a step to see if her cousin was all right but stopped dead in her tracks, hackles rising.

A low boom like distant thunder rumbled from the lead homunculus, the intensity of it making Elena's nose and eyes bleed. She touched the blood with a trembling hand, feeling strength draining from her limbs.

"What did you do?" she whispered, staring at Father.

"I stopped you." He answered, cold simplicity in his voice.

* * *

A/N: Who would you rather be the main consciousness? Spite or Elena?


	24. Chapter 24

*Ed and Al clapped their hands in unison, slapping their palms down on the ground. Nothing happened. Ed's face showed only confusion. "What?" he muttered under his breath, trying again. Still nothing.

Envy's paw slammed down on Ed's back, grinding his face into the floor. Al rushed to help but Envy's heavy tail hit him with a sharp _clang_. Gluttony chomped down on Ling's blade, sitting on the boy before he could even blink.

"It's you, isn't it? That buzz that I could feel when I first came here seventeen years ago. For years I thought Xing alchemy was the thing that was funny, but no. It's _you_. You make the alchemy strange here. You make the air feel polluted." Elena said slowly. "_You're_ the buzz. The thing that alchemists from Xing have written about when they traveled abroad. You control the alchemy here. How? Why?"

"Spite, stop." Elena glared with eyes most baleful at the man that Ed and Al had at first mistaken for their father.

"I'm. Not. Spite," She snarled, blades sliding from her knuckles. Blood dripped down their lengths, hitting the floor with soft _plip-plip _noises. "My name is Elena Marcoh, Lieutenant Colonel and then posthumous Brigadier General for the Amestrian Military. Former State Alchemist 'Iron-Fist'. I grew up in Xing before moving here with my father Doctor Timothy Marcoh after my mother died. I served in the East Area Civil War as a State Alchemist and the youngest Lt. Colonel in the history of this country, never mind that I'm female. The rank was phony, of course, but it doesn't mean I didn't earn it and my position of general when I was killed in action, sent on a mission that was accepted as suicidal by the higher-ups and so it was no surprise when I died. I ran off when I woke up again _on a metal table in an abandoned warehouse, _fully aware that I shouldn't even have been alive. I spent seven years in Xing practically raising that little shithead-" she stabbed a finger in Ling's direction. "-before he got taller than me and I decided to be an idiot and come back HERE as a bodyguard with a wool caravan and then get in touch with my old contacts. The next thing I know I'm forced into a uniform and saying, 'yes, sir' and 'no, sir' when really all I want to do is _scream_. And now I'm wound up in so much political intrigue and shit and two fucking personalities in the same body that my head is ready to explode! How can you people _possibly_ ever confuse me with _SPITE_?" Her voice trembled with barely-controlled rage. "How can you possibly confuse me-"

"**-with her!**" Spite roared.

"All this time! ALL THIS TIME I've been 'Spite'-"

"-**I've been 'Elena'! Do you have any idea how much-"**

"-I hate that?"

"**I'm not ME anymore. I have to share a body-"**

"-with this bitch shrieking at me all hours of the day and night!"

Spite savagely kicked a piece of rubble at Father, who easily deflected it. "Do this, do that-"

"**-kill this, kill that. What am I, your-"**

"-your attack dog? And then you have the _nerve_ to-"

"**-kidnap her father and hold him hostage to make more Stones like the one that-**

"-made us? No. Give me-"

"-_**one good reason**_** why I should have any loyalty to you whatsoever."**

Father gave her an appraising look before strolling over to Ling and Gluttony. Ling started swearing in Xing and thrashing, but Gluttony had his arms in a tight vice. Father looked down on the boy with less distaste than before. "This one appears to be of noble blood. He has good stamina and impressive spirit for a human."

"He _is_ the Marcoh bitch's cousin." Envy sneered. "A prince of Xing, I heard."

"What a coincidence." An eye opened in Father's forehead, It glared balefully down at Ling, who stared back in horror. Red tears collected at the bottom of the eye, dripping down the homunculus's forehead. He caught the red drips in his fingers, letting them pool in his palm. "I just so happen to have a seat open for Greed."

"Ah- that red! It's a Philosopher's Stone?" Al gasped.

"Oh, you're doing _that_, Father?" Envy chuckled.

"Doing what?" Ed demanded, clawing at the cement in a vain effort to get free.

"He's going to add the Stone to your friend's bloodstream. He's creating a homunculus out of a human."

"But the Philosopher's Stone is a high-energy substance!" Ed snapped. "It'll kill him!"

"Sometimes humans with proper spunk survive." Envy chuckled. "The spirits in the Stone will be at war with his own. The Stone usually destroys its host but every now and again someone will survive, just like that nasty little Ma-"

"No!" Elena said. "Stop it. Don't you _dare_. He's got people who need him as-is, you... you..." she shuddered as her voice changed.

"**He's got people who need him. People who are **_**waiting**_** for him."** Spite growled.

"People like you?" Father inquired mildly. "If you do not behave, Spite..."

"**Is that a **_**threat**_**?**" Spite demanded. "**He-**"

"No." Ling said. All eyes turned to stare at him. He was grinning, sweat dripping down his face to mingle with the grime and blood. "Don't interfere, Spite, HuiLang, whoever you are. This is what I want."

"What did I tell you about immorality?" Elena cried. "Cousin-"

"NO! It didn't work out for you, but it doesn't mean I will fall victim to it," he snapped. He managed to get a hand free, stabbing a finger in her direction. "My subject cut off her _own arm_ to ensure that I got this far. Don't. Interfere. And don't you start, either." He locked eyes with Ed. The alchemist was red in the face from temper, teeth ground down in a snarl.

"Ling!" Elena barked as Gluttony ripped a bandage from the cut in Ling's cheek. The very same cheek Elena had blotted with her handkerchief barely the day before.

Father curled his fingers, creating a natural funnel for the rivulet of red Stone that dribbled through the creases in his palm. He tipped his hand, letting it drip into Ling's cut.

For a moment, nothing happened. For a moment, everyone held their breath. For a moment, Elena allowed herself to believe that nothing had happened. And then the screaming started.

Was it that bad when she had given in to Spite? No. She had never actually 'given in'. The souls in the Philosopher's Stone had never had to combat with her own or her body. She had been built _around_ it. Her veins had never burst and rebuilt like Ling's did, nor had her voice reached an inhuman pitch as her cousin's back arched at an impossible angle.

For moment she was eighteen again, bending over an eight-year-old Prince Ling after he'd scraped his knee and was screaming at the top of his lungs. He wasn't seriously hurt, but she remembered thinking, _His mother is going to KILL me._

But Aunt BaoZhai wasn't there to berate her niece. Elena silently said a prayer of thanks that the formidable princess wasn't there to see how utterly Elena had failed in looking after her son.

Elena shuddered at the silence that descended suddenly, fearing what she would see. She chanced a glance at Ling. He looked normal enough, sitting back on his heels. His face was in his hands as he gave a groan. "Ooohhhh... that hurt."

_He's not dead._ She breathed a huge sigh, so relieved it was almost painful. He'd won. "Hey, Ling, ready to go?" she said, dropping her scimitar with a clatter. Ling straightened slow,y cracking his neck. He didn't answer.

"Hey, Ling!" Ed called, sounding peeved.

"Oh, you mean the original owner of this body?" The voice sounded like Ling's and yet _not_ like Ling's. Gone was the accent, replaced by a pattern and inflection that Elena found vaguely familiar and it took her a moment to place them. And by then he had begun to laugh.

It started out as a low chuckle that escalated into a full-throated cackle. "I could get used to this hunk of flesh!" He raised his hand, eyes wild and slit-pupiled like a cat's. A red Ouroboros was tattooed on the back of his left hand. "Thank, Father! It's good to be back!"

_Greed._

_

* * *

  
_

A/N: Yes, I'm a day late. Well, boo to you. I haven't been late in... yeesh. Months. A long while. We are planning to entertain here so there is work to be done (besides the normal drudgery of keeping a home in moderately good condition) and a menu to plan. Along with making sure I know everybody on the guest list and that everyone will be properly amused. And I pulled from the next chapter to make this one a more satisfactory length.


	25. Chapter 25

*A/N: Hi. Yeah. After a very long break filled with school and crap, this is the _fourth_ possible chapter I had written (I've been a busy little bee). Two possible chapters took place in Ishbal, but they would have either been irrelevant to the current action or of an awkward size (too short or too long). The beginning of the third one became the end of the previous chapter. Working on some possible endings, too. And bought volumes 14 and 15 (ordered 16), which is where this fanfiction is taking place right now. (Wow. I've written about Elena's side of volumes 5-13) No one reads this story but hey. This is a good exercise for me. So, yeah, narcissistic reasons.

* * *

"Well, well. Look who's back." Envy sneered. "Forgive me if your form disgusts me, Greed."

"Heh. You're not much to look at yourself." Greed smirked, adjusting the lapels of his borrowed coat.

"Yay! Greed is born!" Gluttony trilled, skipping forward and clapping his hands. "Congratulations! Nice to meet you! I'm Gluttony and that's Envy." He pointed cheerfully. Greed looked thoughtful.

"Gluttony and Envy, huh? Makes sense. It's nice to meet the siblings with whom I share a common soul. Oh, and you must be _Father_." Father looked pleased as Greed knelt reverently. "Thank you for giving me life."

"Hmph. I'll introduce you to the rest of your siblings in good time."

"No. Hold on a second." Elena said sharply. "Ling's still in there. He wouldn't have agreed to you unless he thought he could win!"

Greed looked blankly at her. "Umm... who's the chick?" He asked, jerking his thumb in her direction.

"**Spite. Nice to meet you,**" Spite strolled up, finger-combing the rubble out of her hair.

_Stop it! I'm going to beat some sense into that boy's head-_

**_It won't do any good. He's not in there anymore._**

"**Pardon my human. You've got her cousin's body.**" Spite continued. "**She was fond of him.**"

"Maybe she'll grow fond of me, too, in time." Greed grinned at her lazily. "Spite, you said? You're too sweet an armful, I'd say, to be bitter."

WHAM.

"**Oh, I'm not really that sweet. You flatter me.**" Spite grinned cheerfully, fist still raised. Greed spat out a tooth, massaging his swelling cheek. "**But you did beat the shit out of this body a couple months back and I haven't repaid you yet, no matter whose face you wear.**"

"Spite, stop it." Father ordered. "It's not him anymore."

"**Whaddya mean 'it's not him'?**"

"That was the _old _Greed. I've recreated him without his memories." Father said as if he had made cookies except with walnuts instead of macadamia nuts.

"**You can DO that?**" Spite asked, more impressed than she was willing to admit. Father sniffed disapprovingly.

"You are a difficult child. I would have wiped your slate clean if I could, believe me."

"**Hey, I-**"

BANG.

The huge doors swung open, irresistibly drawing the eyes of everyone present. A lion-goat chimera stood in the door way. Its knees trembled before blood splashed upon the floor and the it fell down. Dead. Scar stepped over it, staring around the room with narrowed red eyes. No one had spoken yet. A small girl who barely came up to his hip cowered right behind him. Seeing her protector about to leave her behind, she reached out and grabbed his jacket sleeve, pulling him back. He looked down at her, questioning. "That man..." The little girl's eyes were glued to father, tears gathering on her bottom lashes in terror. "He's human. But also _not_ human!"

Spite felt recognition flare from a very old part of Elena that she had only just recently tapped. _That's Mei of the Chan clan! What is _she_ doing here?_

"Very good." Greed drawled sarcastically. "Now who are _these_ people?"

"**Scar.**" Spite said somewhat stupidly. Of all people--

"Envy, Gluttony, you are too kill them both _now_." Father ordered. Gluttony whooped with excitement and immediately rushed into action. Spite knew enough to turn away just as blood exploded.

"**This is why you need me.**" She said flatly. "**Nobody else has any brains.**"

Envy lashed out with his long, heavy tail. It would have crushed a lesser man but Scar evaded it. Envy had no choice but to go after him, releasing Ed and Al. Mei procured a set of short throwing knives from her sleeves, throwing them in a circle. A fist made of stone burst from that circle, smashing into Envy's jaw so hard that his eyes crossed. "YES!" Ed and Al clapped their hands together. "Now we can do it!" They planted their hands on the ground, looking triumphant. Nothing happened.

"**Damn it boy we don't have time for this!**" Spite shouted, yanking Ed and Al right off their feet as Mei went flying over their heads, pursued by Gluttony. "**The fuck is wrong with you? We need to get moving!**"

"I can't leave without Ling!" Ed argued, jumping back up. "RanFan will—"

"**Your friend is GONE, buddy!**" Spite roared, past beyond what little patience she had. "**He's gone and he's not coming back! His body belongs to Greed now and unless you have a time machine, that's it. Move it or lose it, bub. We've gotta go.**"

"DUCK!" Al pushed his brother down and was reaching out to yank Spite out of the way when she suddenly wasn't there anymore. The little girl had had to the sense and agility to duck around the female homunculus but Gluttony didn't in his pursuit.

Spite swore and punched Gluttony hard on the nose. "**It's me, damn it! You missed the girl.**"

"Owwwwwww Spite!" Gluttony whined, clutching his nose as his eyes watered.

"**You two! Leave. NOW.**" Spite ordered, trying to wriggle out from under Gluttony but he was too heavy. Ed gave her an ugly look and instead said, "HEY! SCAR! You wanna know who started the Ishbalan war?" Spite's forehead hit the floor with a sharp _clink _as the Ishbalan in question looked around. **_Oh no, that got his attention...._**

"The one who started it all—the one who shot that innocent child—is right _there!"_Ed jabbed his finger at Envy. The homunculus flinched in spite of himself.

"Whoa now. Let's not be hasty!"

"That homunculus _Envy_ disguised himself as an Amestrian soldier and shot that kid on purpose!" Ed took a deep breath and roared, "IT WAS THESE BASTARDS WHO CAUSED THE CIVIL WAR, KILLING THOUSANDS OF INNOCENT PEOPLE!"

Spite dug steel claws into the ground, trying to drag herself out from under Gluttony before the proverbial fireworks began. Gluttony paid no heed to the younger homunculus and instead turned his attention to Scar. "It seems to have much to answer for." Elena shivered at Scar's tone. _Gotta get out--_

"Tell me, why did my people have to die? Depending on your answer I will send you into God's domain or--" Gluttony suddenly launched himself at the dark-skinned man's back, Elena scuttling out of the way as fast as possible. Blood and gore exploded as Gluttony fell to the ground, barely recognizable. "_NO_. God's domain is where my people have gone." Scar's right hand crackled with alchemy. He turned his back on Gluttony's mangled corpse, advancing on Father and Envy. "For you there shall be only _oblivion!_"

Elena pulled a scimitar out of the ground and ducked around Scar, attacking Father while his attention was turned towards the Ishbalan. He moved too quickly for Elena to see. One moment he was standing at ease with his hands tucked into his sleeves, watching Scar, and the next he had her by the front of Site's black tunic, kicking as her feet left the ground. She swore and fought but a vicious shake made her cease her struggles.

"You are far too troublesome for a human." he said disapprovingly.

"Where's Doctor Marcoh?" Elena demanded. Tears of helpless fury gathered in the corners of her eyes. "What have you done with my father?"

"_I_ am your father." Father answered sternly. "I'd like you to remember that, Spite."

"I'm not Spite!" The young woman hissed furiously. The scimitar fell from her nerveless fingers and landed with a clatter. The chaos all around them was merely white noise as Elena stared into those cold yellow eyes, empty of all human feeling.

**_C'mon, Elena! Let me take over and then I can shift and we can get away from hi-_**

"There'll be none of that." And then the world went dark as his other hand covered her eyes.

"I'm not... Spite." Elena wheezed. Tears spilled down her cheeks when she squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself. "I'm Elena."

"That can be remedied." Father said. All that existed in her world was the darkness and that strangely comforting voice. Spite's screaming died down to a murmur as the world faded away. Was this the oblivion Scar seemed fond of sending people to? Would she see the Truth again? Would she reach the other side of It? Would there be an after-life? Would she be sent to hell?

Would there be a Go------


	26. Chapter 26

-

*Strange last chapter. I know. It took me four freaking months to write. I don't know if I can update as frequently/regularly as before, but we'll see. Didn't I tell you? I WILL complete Elena's story. Even if I begin to hate it, the least I can do for her is make sure there's an ending. And many thanks to my dear friend, who told me what guns the people of FullMetal Alchemist use, and to Hiromu Arakawa for being an inspirational artist and storyteller. Oh. And like a few chapters back, I will not bold-face Spite's dialog. Just assume it is all Spite talking and not Elena unless I tell you otherwise. This was going to be about 1900 words but it turned into 3000. A mystery.... And I want to know Spite better. She gains some actual dimension here.

* * *

I'd only been alone like this once before and I had hoped to never have to repeat the experience again. Ever.

After those long, dusty years of lying in a small box in perfect darkness, I had my first taste of fresh air. It was still dark as I had no eyes and I could not hear or smell anything as I also lacked ears and a nose. But I still remember the feeling of that voracious wind as it skittered across the surface of my body. If I had had blood or sweat it would have swept it all away. I was called to life again, my powers awakened as suddenly all was bright and I stood in front of the Doors of Truth. They opened and a girl stumbled through.

She was pale-skinned and black-haired, young and lean and positively glowing with health. She looked around, expression changing from confused to reluctant. I reached out, finding I had a body of my own the mirror of hers. I formed words for the first time in centuries. "**_Come_**_."_

The girl stared at me. She raised her fists, unconcerned as to how she wore not a stitch of clothing. "Just you try it." she challenged. "I'm staying here."

"**They won't let you back through.**" I propped a hand on my skinny hip. "**The Doors. They won't let you go back through. You've been called.**"

"Yeah? And? I'll stay here." She stood squarely, raising her chin in challenge. "I'm not going back out there."

"**Tough luck!" **I snapped. "**We're goin' back.**"

_Leave now._

We both looked at the glowing humanoid outline sitting in front of the door. It grinned.

_You've paid the Toll._

It raised a hand, the bones appearing within. The girl gasped. Her body was collapsing in on itself like a tent without supports. She screamed. The Truth's body was skeletal now, surrounded by its fleshed-out glow. It turned to stare at me with empty eye-sockets and a horrific grin.

_Now you._

I writhed as I felt memories flashing before my eyes and then being ripped from my body just as the girl's bones were being ripped from hers. I was being pulled towards the Doors as they opened and the girl was struggling to get away from them. We met and suddenly my skin was hers or hers was mine, I couldn't tell. My memories of it are befuddled and difficult to decipher. But suddenly I was Elena and Elena was me and we were two entities crammed into the same body.

I woke up screaming my new lungs out, the sound tearing itself from my new throat and new mouth. The sensations of the word were too much. The cold metal against my bare skin, the breath whistling through my nose, the dim light assaulting my sensitive eyes. Existence was sheer agony. But through it all as I sat back in the recesses of Elena Marcoh's mind, I felt a little thrill. I wasn't alone anymore. I had someone to exist with, a body to live in. I had all the sights and sounds of the world to sate my starving conciousness. I had the ability to feel again.

I would never be lonely again. It would be me and Elena and someday very soon I'd be ruling her body while she sat back and watched and couldn't do anything about it. We'd be immortal with plenty of time for me to live my own life, to be myself with no master. I would finally be _free_.

As soon as I was by myself in the military showers after confronting Father with the Elric Brothers, I turned on the water as high as it would go. My forehead made a sharp noise as it hit the tiled walls of the shower stall. An eternity. An eternity absolutely on my own. Can you imagine it? Picture yourself as an immortal being. You've got forever to live. Nothing can destroy you. But there is not one single living being around you. You are are the only thing that exists. Your family, your friends, even your pets don't exist anymore. You have nothing to do but sit there and realize that you will be doing exactly this same thing tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that. The monotony and the loneliness is past endurance.

Completely.

And utterly.

Alone.

After ten minutes of terrifying self-pity I sank my teeth into my arm. The pain and blood cleared my head and allowed me to get a grip on my situation. I refused to acknowledge that Father had destroyed Elena. I _refused_. I would get her back if I had to pry open the Portal of Truth with my bare hands.

I turned off the shower and wrung the water from my hair, letting my rational side win over. I would have to be Elena for the foreseeable future. I made a mental list of people I had to get on my side. I needed help if I was going to pull this off. Elena's memories were not my own. She kept hers to herself and I mine. We were two entirely separate beings, anyway.

I pulled on the spare uniform, automatically parting and combing my hair as I thought. Some of Elena's people were safe. They were "human sacrifices", after all. This included her father, Mustang, the Elrics, and a few other people. But it did not include Lieutenant Hawkeye, Breda, Hughes's wife and child, Havoc, and the rest of the country. I gritted my steel teeth. It would be tricky, but I was a smart wench. Even in my years of captivity I had formulated plans and run them through different scenarios. The world had changed since the last time I had been let out, but humans were the same and could be used in the same way, too.

"Lieutenant Colonel Marcoh, the Fuhrer is ready to see you."

"Hold your friggin' horses I'm coming." I answer. I grimaced. That didn't sound like Elena at all. At least... not Office Elena. Her tone was sharp and precise, her inflection just the littlest bit foreign. "I'll be out in a moment." There. That was better.

I threw back the door to the ladies' showers, entertaining the hope of hitting whatever army personnel was my escort. My eyes narrowed. "Fuck." I muttered. The cigar-smoking major general from before was now in the uniform and slighter younger countenance of a first lieutenant. He smirked at my failed attempt to hit him with the door.

"Come on, Spite." He said, setting off at a brisk walk. I kept pace beside him, shoulders back and staring straight ahead. We stopped three corridors down. He opened a door. "Wrath will see you now." I entered and Envy closed the door beside me.

"Colonel Mustang." I said, a little dubiously. The Fuhrer and the Colonel sat as nicely as you please at a small round table, a tea service set up on a silver trey. Three extra chairs were at the table. I took the one furthest from the Fuhrer, folding my hands before me on the table. Bradley smiled quietly to himself as if enjoying his own private joke.

"I am told there was a bit of trouble down below." he said pleasantly. Mustang said nothing, staring darkly at the table and his own full teacup. I resigned myself to being surrounded by idiots and poured my own cup. "Our lair was found by the Elrics brothers and that Ishbalan, Scar.

"Blame Gluttony." I said. "He took Alphonse straight to Father."

"Yes but Gluttony is simple," Wrath said. "He can hardly be blamed. But you, on the other hand, Spite--"

"Blah blah blah yeah I know." I sighed, taking a sip of my tea. "It's always me, isn't it? Blame Elena. She was a pain to live with." Mustang looked up at my use of past tense. I raised my eyebrows at him, letting my eyes turn sclera for just the briefest moment. "She's gone." I said. "Father destroyed her. It's only me in this body now. Finally."

"What!" I shrugged.

"Sorry, Roy. You know she was dead ages ago, anyway. And that Xing kid, Ling? He's Greed now. So don't expect any help plotting from over the border." I winked cheekily at Mustang. I hadn't seen a human look so angry in a long time. "And I heard about Riza. Awful shame. Sweet young thing like her working for this old man." Wrath ignored my cheek.

"You should have been named 'Irritation' instead of 'Spite'." He told me. I grinned.

"You're just jealous that I've got the body of a young girl while _you _are growing old. Your body will fail you eventually and you'll die. Maybe _I'll _ be Fuhrer next...."

"My dear Spite, don't forget that that is Colonel Mustang's ambition." Wrath raised his cup to the Colonel. Mustang smiled tightly, as if the very movement hurt him.

"You flatter me, Sir President." He said. "You seem to have taken my latest Lieutenant Colonel from me, too." He laughed lightly. Bradley chuckled.

"Ah. Well, that wasn't my doing," he admitted, probably wishing that the current events had come about by his own hand. "Spite is a sibling of sorts. I believe you met her before, in the Central City Research Institute where you killed Lust."

"I actually liked her." I mused regretfully. "Lust, I mean. Cheeky woman. And you shot me a bunch of times, Roy-o . Elena was totally fine with that, you know. She was weak."

"And yet you were just saying that she was strong." Roy pointed out. I snorted, rolling my eyes.

"Whatever. Father got rid of her for me. Said Elena was corrupting me." I shrugged.

"And now that she's gone you will _behave_." Wrath said sternly, glaring at me from across the rim of his teacup. I rolled my eyes.

"Of _course_, little brother." I said snidely. "Just point me and I'll shoot. Oh, yeah, and I want my license."

"Your license?"

"Yeah. State Alchemist, you know?" I said impatiently. "It will look weird of Elena Marcoh doesn't get her license back, being the 'Iron-Fist' and all. I'm supposed to be her, anyway."

"Then you better start acting like her." Bradley said sharply. "Keep your bile to yourself. Make nice with her subordinates. _Be_ her."

"I've lived inside her head for the past seven years. Shouldn't be _too_ hard."

"Mm. Oh, is that the time?" The Fuhrer looked up in mild surprised at the elegant clock mounted on the wall. "Dear me, the Fullmetal Alchemist and his brother should be here at any moment. It will distress them if you are here, Spite. No, Colonel Mustang, stay. You are my guest. Now, Spite--"

"_Elena_." I corrected with a smirk. Bradley paused and went on.

"--Lieutenant Colonel Marcoh, take the rest of the day off to... _acquaint_ yourself with the new way of things. I have an assignment for you tomorrow."  


* * *

Ed ambled along, hotdog in one hand on which he munched tiredly. Man, when did the days get so _long_? He hadn't slept in forever, it felt like. He stifled a yawn and huddled deeper in his borrowed over-coat. His body had gone to sleep hours ago, leaving him cold and grumpy. All he wanted to do was clean up the mess he'd made earlier and then sleep for a month.

He passed the military road-block and proceeded to where he and Al had fought Scar and where Lieutenant Colonel marcoh had started monologuing. Last he remembered, the surrounding streets had looked like a war-zone. Now, as he darted from alley to alley in confusion, they looked brand new.

"Sir!" The soldiers from earlier called to him, waving jauntily. Ed made his way towards them.

"Did you get some local alchemists to help?" Ed asked curiously. The bearded soldier shook his head, grinning.

"Naw. They strutted up confidently enough to help this morning, but as soon as they tried to transmute something they got flustered and said they couldn't, said something was stopping them."

"Pah, amateurs." The other soldier spat on the ground. "A State Alchemist came and helped us not too long ago. Just goes to show that your group is a whole level above the others, hunh?"

"Oh. When did the State Alchemist leave?" Ed asked, stifling another yawn. _I should thank him._

"She's still here. Lieutenant Colonel Marcoh!" The bearded soldier called.

Ed felt the bottom drop out of his stomach as the other State Alchemist sauntered over. She looked as fresh as a daisy, uniform crisp and black hair stuffed beneath a cap. "Good morning, Elric." she greeted him. "How are you? Scar didn't injure you?"

"Er-- no, I got off easy." Ed said. "Oh, wait! You got knocked unconscious, didn't you?" he asked one of the soldiers. The soldier grinned.

"I'm fine, sir. Just a mild concussion and I was back on my feet. But I heard you had a rough time of it, sir. You and the Lieutenant Colonel both."

"Scar is an Ishbalan renegade." Marcoh said confidently. "This incident shall be mopped up shortly. Might I have a word, Mister Elric? Thank you. Good day, gentlemen."

Ed followed the lieutenant colonel away from the soldiers. The city was only just coming to life after the previous day's events. "So, Ed." He stiffened at the tone. Marcoh stopped and turned to look at him, blue-white eye crinkled in a smile. "How've you been? Father didn't rough you up too much, I hope?"

"No, I'm fine." Ed said shortly. No pun intended. "What about you, _Spite?_"

"You wound me." The homunculus purred. "Now before you pick a fight I want to let you know that even though I am in a very tight position, I can still help you." Ed made a disbelieving noise, making Spite frown at him. "I can. Really. Elena was human with all of the limitations of her youth in tact. I am immortal. I saw the way you looked at that little Xing girl with the braids when she did alchemy. You want to know how to do that, too."

Ed nodded warily. "Yes. Al and I think maybe we can use it to get our original bodies back."

"You can. And I want to know how, too. I can translate any documents from Xing you might find. Elena wasn't the only one from Xing. Did you know I was emperor there about four hundred years back?"

"That's a load of crap." Ed said frankly. Spite chuckled.

"It's true. It was my first job. Father made me to take over the emperor's body. Oooh, those were the days! Silks and perfumes and all the lovely women you could ever want..." Spite's voice trailed off wistfully. "I was in a male body back then, in case you didn't know."

"I assumed as much."

"There were also court alchemists and magicians and dancers. Poets, musicians, chefs... if you had talent you were a jewel of my court. They told tales of my reign for generations to come. I loved beautiful things. But I could also order the deaths of entire villages with a single twitch." She fluttered her fingers experimentally, as if maybe the movement had the same effect four hundred years later. "I was so powerful, so feared... oh, it was a heady thing. Father saw I was enjoying myself too much and then he ripped me from that body." Her voice was soft and savage. "And then he left me all alone in a little box for centuries. How I _loathe_ Him. How dare He profess to care for me as one of His children when all He does is ignore me or smack me when I do something wrong. My name, don't you see? Spite. I gave it to myself. I hate Them more than You. So, I shall do all I can to help you and your ilk because it will piss Them off no end.. You want to overthrow Wrath, yes? If not you, then Mustang. Mustang's young, attractive, and human. He's got dreadfully good charisma and enough ambition to set a whole nation afire, no pun intended. I will help."

"That Father guy is your creator." Ed snapped. "He made you. You're one of _them_. And what about Colonel Marcoh? What does _she _say?"

"Colonel Marcoh is dead."

Ed stopped. His lungs felt like blocks of ice. "Wh-what?"

"Father killed her." Spite looked away from the young man, shoulders hunched against a nonexistent chill wind. "It's just me in here now."

"But-"

"Don't you see? _I have my own motives!_" Spite hissed, whipping around to glare at him with scleral eyes. "I help you neither for love of you nor this country. I hate _everything_ in this world! Everything! I only hate you and your puling little humans slightly less than I do my own kind. Isn't that fucked up? Turn-coat to my family in favor of the little bastard insects that surround us!" Tirade done, she took a deep breath and let it out. Rummaging around in her blazer pocket, she procured a pack of cigarettes. She took one out and shoved it into her mouth. "Be a dear and toss this for me, would ya?" she said with a wink, tucking the empty box into the front pocket of the FullMetal Alchemist's coat. "There's a nice lady down the street a little bit who's balcony you destroyed. I left that one for you so you wouldn't feel useless. I'll be off now. Feel free to call me, okay? Good bye, Hagane no Rekinjutsushi."

He watched her go for a bit before remembering to be incensed. "Hagane no what now?" he yelled after her. "That better not mean small!" She simply waved without turning around. Muttering, he went in search of a waste bin. Finding one, he pulled out the cigarette box and was about to drop it in before something made him pause. _This is heavy for being empty._ He thought. He popped open the lid, revealing big bills stuffed into the little cardboard box. Tucked against the side was a tiny slip of paper reading, "DR KNOX". Shaking his head at the audacity of the homunculus—he didn't know quite how to file her under people he knew—he put the box back in his pocket and went off to fix Nice Lady Down The Street a Little Bit's balcony.


	27. Chapter 27

*_Ishbal  
_

"Gentlemen-- and ladies," Colonel—no, _General_ Grand turned away from the electrical board where grim-faced communications operatives were rapidly writing down any messages they had gotten. They all suddenly went very still, turning to stare at Grand as he held up their latest message. A crowd of officers stood around the dug-out and he ducked under the doorway to come out into the sunshine. "Ladies and gentlemen, the last region of Ishbal—Daliha—has been secured. All of Ishbal is now under our military control."

Dead silence greeted his statement before, very slowly, the Iron-Fist Alchemist brought her hands together. Another officer started to clap. Soon, everyone was applauding and cheering.

"It's over!

"YESSS! We can go home!"

"I get to see my family again!"

"Hey, Maes."

Maes Hughes was sprawled in a wagon, his elbows and back propped up on the side. Soldiers ran around, crying aloud the good news. Marcoh hopped up into the wagon, kicking the captain's legs aside so that she would have a place to sit. She crossed her legs, leaning against the side of the wagon. "Did you fall asleep?"

"No. Is it really over?" Hughes asked, staring up at the sky. Marcoh sighed, running grubby fingers through her short hair.

"They say it is. But I don't really think it's _ever_ going to be over." The girl said quietly. Hughes sat up with a groan, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Ugh. I finally get to go home. Hey, Elena, what are you going to do after this?" The two had become friends, being in the same squad under General Grand. Elena yawned, rubbing her eyes.

"Well, for one, I think I'm going to get a real meal. And a bath. And maybe go back home to Xing or something. My grandmother's been at me about all these cousins that have been born since I left. What're you going to do?"

"I'm going home to my _beautiful future._" Maes held up a photo of a pretty woman with short light-brown hair. He grinned broadly as Elena took the photo. She raised her eyebrows at him.

"She's too pretty for you."

"Awww, don't say that. My Gracia is too pretty for _anyone_, then."

"Hey, Captain Hughes, Major Marcoh?" A few privates stood at ease, one carrying mugs and another a big bottle of wine. "Will you have a drink with us?" Mugs were handed out and liquor splashed into them.

"I thought they ran out of booze months ago." Hughes muttered, taking a healthy swig.

"Ah, no offense, but is Major Marcoh old enough to drink?" The Major had the cup halfway to her lips when she heard the mutter. A half-dozen pairs of wide eyes stared at her. She uttered a disbelieving noise, downing the contents of the mug in a single gulp.

"I'm old enough to hold it and that's all that matters." she said sternly. Then she smirked. "I'm sure Lieutenant Colonels are old enough to drink, wouldn't you?"

"What! You're a Lieutenant Colonel?" Hughes choked on his swallow of booze.

"How old are you really, meaning no disrespect, ma'am?" A soldier asked.

"Tell me your ages, first. Names, too."

The men exchanged looks. "Well... I'm James, twenty-six years old."

"I'm Dmitri. I'm thirty-two."

"Jonah. Twenty-nine."

"Karl. Thirty-five."

"Lucas, twenty-five."

"And I'm Eddie, twenty-one, ma'am."

"They say the war's over, so you can call me 'miss' instead of 'ma'am'. What's today's date?" Elena asked, swirling the dregs of her mug around. They told her. She squinted at her hands, counting on her fingers. "Monkey, Rooster, Dog..." She muttered.

"Uhh... Colonel Marcoh?"

"Shut up. I was born on a different calendar. I was born in the Monkey year so I am... I'm seventeen and a half."

Wine was spewed everywhere, Hughes clapping a hand to his breast pocket to keep his picture of Gracia safe. "Seventeen? No way!"

"My kid sister is seventeen!"

"Holy hell, a Lieutenant Colonel at seventeen?"

"Hey, you get big promotions for being suicidal." Elena snapped. "I know I'm 'just a kid', but I worked my ass off getting my alchemist's license and don't even get me started on how long I spent on the ra-"

"Lieutenant Colonel Marcoh!" A message-runner saluted.

"Yes?" Elena set down her mug, looking for her jacket. "What?"

"The Fuhrer wants a word with you." Elena nearly swallowed her tongue.

"_What!_ What'd I do?" She grumbled, shoving her arms through the sleeves of her jacket and buttoning it up.

"Just watch. She's going to get promoted _again_." Karl said mournfully, shaking his head. "I guess we lowborn bodies are destined to stay in the mud."

"Oh shut up. Being in charge isn't a whole lot of fun. If the President wants me to do something, it's unlikely I'll be getting out of here right away. So, I guess I'll be seeing you around." Elena shook hands with her drinking companions, wishing each other well. "See ya, Hughes. Marry that Gracia tout suite or somebody else might get her." Hughes groaned in horror.

"That better not happen. Take care of yourself, Marcoh."

"You too."

She waved, following the messenger. "Did Bradley say what he wanted to see me about?" she asked curiously. The messenger looked around shiftily before saying, out of the side of his mouth, "It's something about that cracknob, Kimbley. The Crimson Alchemist."

A stab of something unpleasant penetrated Elena's weary haze. "Wait, Kimbley? _That_ Kimbley? '_Bang Bang Big Noises'_ Kimbley?"

"You could call him that, I guess.... But, meaning no disrespect, Ma'am, all you State Alchemists unnerve those of us who are lower down on the totem pole."

Elena shook her head, resigned to being kept in Ishbal longer than need be. "Uggh... am I ever going to get home?"

* * *

_Present  
_

I yawned hugely.

I'd gotten back to my apartment at about one in the morning and promptly fallen asleep. I woke late and was forced to skip breakfast in favor of showering. I'd forgotten that human bodies needed to be tended. I really paid no attention when Elena took care of teeth-brushing, hair-combing, etc., despairing of ever having my own body again. Then my stomach growled, saying it wanted to be fed _now_ and I dropped by a barely-opened cafe` for a bagel and some coffee. Damn, being human was a lot of work. My porcelain veneers had been punched out of my mouth the day before, so I got a weird look from the woman pouring coffee.

Sigh.

So I sat in the military-issue car, feet propped up on the dashboard while I enjoyed my breakfast. I hadn't tasted food in _centuries_. Elena kept that little joy to herself, the bitch. I checked my brand-new State Alchemist's pocket-watch. It was nine-thirty. I'd been idling for over an hour in front of Central City's prison. I was waiting for someone who's name I had conveniently forgotten. Kimberly, or some other pansy-assed name. An ex-alchemist Father wanted to call into active service again. I settled myself more comfortably in my seat, enjoying the feeling of the leather upholstery against my back. Well, whoever it was, they sure were a jerk for making me wait.

Finally, the big front doors of the prison creaked open a hair, leaving just enough room for a man to step through. They slammed shut behind him as if to say, "And don't come back, ya hear!" He was a dapper fellow, tall and lean and sporting a gleaming black ponytail that made me sigh with envy (Elena did not take care of her hair at _all_, leaving me with a dull, limp mane that I embarrassedly had to shove beneath a cap). He wore a white seersucker suit-and-vest ensemble, his pointy-toed shoes the height of jailbird fashion. A white fedora perched upon his head to complete his look. Damn, but did he look familiar.

With a groan I sat up, sticking my arm out the window to wave to him. He spotted me and the car and got in the backseat. "So, Kimbley, right?" I drawled, glancing at him in the rear-view mirror. "Crimson Alchemist, incarcerated these last seven years for blowing up some Brass. Congrats on your release." He chuckled darkly.

"And who do I have to thank for my unexpected release?" His voice was sleek as silk, so soft yet I still heard every word. He seemed a perfect gentleman, right down to his dress and speech. Why were my hackles raised?

"Father's got a job for you." I said, starting the car and pulling away from the prison. "There's an Ishbalan named Scar that has caused quite a bit of trouble for us. He's killing off all the State Alchemists he can get his little patty-paws of destruction on. From what I've heard I'm surprised he got past you. You _were_ in charge of killing the Ishbalans all off."

Kimbley propped his elbow on the windowsill, chin resting on his hand as he started out at the trees flickering past as we got closer to the city proper. "Mmm... yes." he mused. "It's inexcusable that my Symphony of Destruction remains incomplete. So my job is to eliminate this Scar character?"

"That'd be nice. Also, Doctor Timothy Marcoh, the man who made the Philosopher's Stone during the war? He might have escaped with Scar." My gut burned with fury. So close yet he just slipped through my fingers! Elena's father and the only man who could possibly bring her back and give me a body of my own had been within a mile of me only two nights before while I confronted Father. Fate's little joke, I guess. "We want Marcoh back alive. Bank notes and warrants are in the case on the seat next to you." I heard Kimbley open it and rifle through the papers.

"This seems a rather minor task to let me out for." he said softly. I shook my head, mock-regretful.

"Ah. Well, we were hanging this nice little town over Marcoh's head as a way to get him to cooperate. He's not cooperating so... we need you to _blow it off the map._ Now, doesn't that sound like fun?" Kimbley sighed sadly, but he smiled.

"How cruel of you." he commented. "Still..." There was a soft belch and I glanced in the rearview mirror again to see my passenger contemplating the Philosopher's Stone in his hand. "I get to use this again."

"Oh, that's a firecracker." I said scornfully. "You need a real Roman Candle to wipe out an entire town." I held up a marble-sized red stone between my index and middle finger. "Time for an upgrade."

"Did you use Ishbalans again?" He leaned forward to take it while I twisted around in my seat to see him better.

"No, we used--"

"Marcoh?"

"No. Why would we use _him_? I just said he was g-"

"Elena." Kimbley's pale eyes were locked on mine, wide in surprise. "Elena Marcoh." I sucked in a quick breath, frozen in place.

So _that's_ why his name sounded so familiar! So _that's_ why Father had me come get him!

"Ah. It has been a while, hasn't it?" I said lightly, though my mind was a blue haze of swear-words.

Zolf J. Kimbley had been the one to kill Elena in the first place.

* * *

A/N: Okay, is Kimbley the Crimson Alchemist or the Red Lotus Alchemist? I've seen it both ways. I prefer "Crimson". And I finally noticed the disturbing resemblance between him and Spite/Elena. Black ponytail, pale pointy/crazy eyes, berserker mode, etc. But Kimbles (would he mind if I called him that?) does look rather dashing in a uniform. He should wear that more than that seersucker suit he likes to sport these days. He's like Deidara. I nearly swallowed my own tongue when Kimbley goes, "Hmm... that wasn't artful enough."


	28. Chapter 28

*I couldn't remember the last time I had been so pissed off. I swear to G... Someone, that I couldn't. No one had ever played with me in such a way before. How _dare_ that brat! How dare he pull that shit with me, how dare he fuck with me like that.

I didn't even notice the privates and lieutenants I shoved out of my way, knocking them against the walls of the corridor as I bulled through. I got to my destination in a manner of seconds but an immovable obstacle stood in my way.

"Good afternoon, Lieutenant Colonel Marcoh." Major Armstrong snapped to attention.

"_Move_." I ordered. I know I looked like a madwoman but that brat needed a lesson.

"Er... Colonel Marcoh, is everything quite all right?"

"Peachy." I snapped. The Major looked uneasy at my mood. "I have an _appointment_ with the Fuhrer, if you don't mind." An utter lie, but effective.

"Of course."

He stepped aside and opened the door for me like a gentleman. I shoved it fully open like a brute. Bradley sat at his desk pretty as you please, writing a letter to some diplomat or other. Lieutenant Hawkeye stood with a stack of files to the side of his desk. They both looked up in surprise as I stalked in. "Ah, Lieutenant Colonel Marcoh. How may I help you?"

"It concerns my errand of earlier today, _sir_." I replied stiffly. "I would like to discuss it with your Excellency in private." Hawkeye looked tense—and rightly so—to be in the same room as two extremely dangerous homunculi.

Wrath held my eyes for a moment. I let him know that I was _very_ unhappy with him. He sighed regretfully at having his day interrupted. "You may finish those in the outer office, Lieutenant Hawkeye." he told the blonde woman.

"Shall I order a tea service, your Excellency?" She asked politely.

"No need. I shall send for you later. This shouldn't take too long."

As soon as the door closed behind her Wrath leaned back with a groan in his plush chair. "What do you want _now_, Spite?" he asked. In a lesser man, his tone would have been considered irritable. I crossed the room in three strides and grabbed the front of his uniform in one hand, hoisting him from his seat and practically dragging him across the desk.

"_How dare you!_" I hissed into his face, black-eyed with fury. "Why do you insist on fucking with me all the time? Kimbley? Are you _insane? _He killed me—killed Elena! YOU ordered her to kill him and you KNEW she would die. Why didn't you send Envy to collect him from the clink? Why _me_, knowing what meat-sack I wear?"

"Exactly for this reason." Wrath's voice was low but it shook with rage. "You are out of control. You're so used to doing exactly what you want. You need to be taught a lesson."

I only just noticed the hilt of his sword protruding from my solar plexus, the blade sticking out a full foot from my back. And I hadn't even seen him draw. Damn him. "You _bastard_." I couldn't find a bad enough name to call him. "And now you send that madman Kimbley after Scar and Dr. Marcoh? You want the old human alive but he will _die _if Kimbley gets his hands on him. He will kill himself rather than be dragged back here and made to work again."

"I knew you would see it my way." What? What was he talking about? "You know Marcoh will kill himself as soon as he catches sight of Kimbley. The Crimson Alchemist is not known for his stealth. Marcoh will see him coming a mile away. That is why you will find Marcoh and bring him back here. You _are_ his daughter after all, Lieutenant Colonel Marcoh."

He dropped from my nerveless hands back into his seat. I felt cold all over, ice forming in my stomach. "That's cruel." I breathed. "That's..."

"Inhuman?" Wrath offered brutally. "Monstrous? Heartless? Dastardly? That's what we are, my dear Spite. But above all that we are _rational._ This is the only way to get him back here alive. You, in the guise of his daughter, shall _lure_ him into our clutches once again."

I did want to see Marcoh. As the one to transmute Us together in the first place, he was the only one who could give Elena back to me. But if Father got his claws into him again, no way would he allow Marcoh to bring Elena to life again. But I couldn't just go and search for him. He was with Scar and Scar was public enemy no. 1 now. It wasn't like I could walk up to him and strike up a conversation. "Nice weather, isn't it? Oh, ignore the MP's behind me. They want you dead. By the way have you seen Elena's father?" No. That wasn't going to work. But if I did it Wrath's way... Marcoh wouldn't run. I could talk to him. He would still be free. He would get Elena back and give me my own body and we could run away from Father. Run away from all of this, from _everything_.

I could be free.

"I'll do it."

Whoever's up there in heaven, if heaven even exists, on the off-chance that I make it up there, I'm going to be having a very stern word with you.

* * *

"Okay, change of plans."

Kimbley looked up from examining his already immaculate fingernails. He smiled at me from his seat in the civilian waiting room in the front of the military headquarters.

"Oh?" he said with polite interest, picking up his overcoat and setting his hat back on his head.

"Yeah. Your only target is Scar, now. You are to leave Doctor Marcoh to me." I said shortly, swinging my own coat over my shoulders. I trotted down the front steps of the building and to the car, Kimbley easily keeping up with me.

"Ah. How fitting. Please forgive me for earlier, Lieutenant Colonel. Your form... _startled _me." he said silkily. I snorted.

"Like I care. I'm Spite now, remember? Smarter than Wrath and cuter than Envy. Elena's long gone so if you have an old score to settle, too bad. You got your Stone?"

"I haven't let it out of my sight."

"Good." We got into the backseat of the car. The driver turned around and grinned cheekily at me. I flipped Envy off and he started the car. "You are to head north tomorrow. That is where Scar has been spotted. I will follow the day after that. I have affairs to set in order. If you find Marcoh you are to apprehend him _only_. Do not kill him. Kill Scar. Is that clear?"

"You sound just like her." Kimbley shook his head, a wistful grin on his handsome face. "So bossy. I've never heard anyone scream so beautifully since she died. Such a _nice_ sound. Young people's voices are so pure."

"Uh-hunh." Man he gave me the heebie-jeebies. "Well... don't get killed. I don't know who else we can bust from jail for his job."

I had Envy drop me off at my apartment. I was glad to be rid of both him and the Crimson Alchemist. "Oh, hey, waitasec, Spite." I turned around with awful patience.

"Yes, Envy dear?"

"You know we're holding Mustang's subordinates hostage to keep him in line. We've got that blond chick—"Winry" or something—for the Elrics. Don't make us find a weak spot, bitch." I sneered at him prettily.

"Keep your bile to yourself, ya little scut. I'm SPITE. I hate everyone and everything, remember?" He was too stupid to waste words on. I made sure he'd driven away before I entered my apartment building.  


* * *

"Good afternoon, Lieutenant Colonel Marcoh." I looked over. My landlady was sitting in the building's little front office, hair in curlers and house-slippers on her feet. I forced a smile onto my face. _Be Elena_.

"Good afternoon, Miz Farthing." I sad politely. "How are you?"

"Not bad. The corns on my feet are being a bother. Your rent's up for this month."

"Oh, really?" I blinked. Damnit. _Another_ thing I'd never thought about riding backseat with Elena. I reached for my checkbook, pulling a pen from my pocket. "How much is it again?" She told me and I winced inwardly. She was always reimbursed, but I remember Elena's mental cursing whenever that sum had to leave her bank account, no matter how well-padded said account was. It seemed a waste as I didn't plan on coming back to Central, but it would look strange if I didn't pay. I wrote out the amount and tore the check from its moorings, handing it to the middle-aged woman. "Miz Farthing I hope it won't be too much trouble for you to look after my apartment? I'll be gone for a bit and I don't know for how long."

Miz Farthing took a long pull on her cigarette. "Work, huh?" she said sympathetically. I sighed.

"Top secret. I hate it when they don't give me a termination date. I'll be leaving in two days for the north country."

"Brrrr, I don't envy you that. It's winter up there!"

"It's _always_ winter up there." I muttered.

"Oh, Colonel—is that new?" A length of weighty silver chain dangled from my pocket. I fought back a metallic grin. I pulled the watch from my pocket and set it on Miz Farthing's desk so she could get a good look at it.

"Yup. Just got my State Alchemist's license renewed."

"Congratulations. What's your new name?"

I chuckled darkly. My, Wrath sure had a weird sense of humor.

"The Iron Bone Alchemist."

* * *

A/N: I love Kimbley. He's so beautifully creepy. And he's a cutie, too. I _love_ evil cuties.


	29. Chapter 29

Spite's Day Out

As long as I had shared a body with Elena, I had been pretty much a prisoner inside her head. She rarely let me out to see through her eyes or smell with her nose. I learned about my surroundings by sharing her thoughts and hearing the world around us. I _was_ set on her ears as earrings, remember? I learned a lot that way about technical things, like the mechanics of a telephone or how to operate a tank. Even though _she_ would forget things. _I _always remembered, no matter if she had only thought something once.

I liked that part about sitting in the backseat. It was interesting. I was never alone. But something that drove me absolutely _crazy_ during the rare times that she let me out was how she looked.

She was cute enough, sure. All young people are cute. But she so obviously did not care about her appearance that I was hard put not to commit  
suicide in protest. I loved looking nice. Elena had a body of her own. Why was she not enjoying it?

The next morning I looked for the nicest thing in Elena's sparse closet. It turned out to be an olive-green pencil-skirt and something in blue that could be loosely deemed a blouse. Everything else was in military blue and reeked of office-wear. I found a pair of non-boot pumps that pinched my heels but would have to do. They looked brand new but I upended one and a couple of moth balls fell out. Elena must have last worn them on the day she graduated from the Academy.

I regretted the lack of pretty Xing clothes. I knew Elena had some, but she'd left them behind in Xing like an idiot.

I locked up my apartment and skipped down the stairs and out the door into the street. I _loved_ the feeling of nerves and sinew connecting with steel bone and working perfectly. Why were humans always so depressed? Sure, their lives were dreadfully short but every movement brought new sensations! The pavement beneath my feet, the sunlight on my skin, the scents of the street wafting through my nose... ahhhhh.

Elena will—She's coming back—screech when she learns how much I spent. But I'm living on a lovely salary as a bribe and with a State Alchemist's resources to boot. First, I chopped off Elena's dreadful hair. Not _all_ of it. Just the nasty bits. The hairstylist clucked her tongue as dead locks of hair fell to the ground. "What do you _do _to it, hon?" she wanted to know, running her hands through what was left. I looked at her in the mirror, fashion magazine open on my lap.

"Work." I said by way of explanation. "I'm the youngest-looking superior officer in my office. I have to look like an utter hag or else I don't get any respect." The hairstylist made a sympathetic noise and got to work. I gave her an excellent tip, flipping my glossy, newly-styled locks in a motion Elena had always despised. My hips took on an extra twitch as I sauntered down the street, earning myself a whistle and a, "Hey, babe! I get off work at five." To which I replied, "Go fuck yourself, sleazebag."

Then I got my nasty, grimy fingernails and toenails taken care of (I shuddered every time I saw them). The pedicurist gave me a raised eyebrow at the band-aids on my shins. I had to wing it in shaving my legs. I had no razor at hand so I used a kunai. Yeah. Ouch. The woman buffing my fingernails made snide comments about the calluses on my hands before I told her I was a lieutenant Colonel in the army and that I was slated as the next hand-to-hand combat instructor.

* * *

I stopped for lunch at a pricey cafe` with a name I couldn't pronounce. I took a table outside so I could watch the people walking by in the street on the other side of the low, decorative fence. I was about to bite into something they called a "panini", dripping cheese and grilled eggplant when something caught my eye. I stretched my arm into the air, waving briskly.

"Yoooooohooo! Colonel! Roy darling!" I caroled. He stopped and looked to see who had called him. He grinned lasciviously at me, leaning his elbows on the fence. He was a snappy dresser outside of uniform, looking very much the available bachelor.

"Good afternoon," he said pleasantly in a deeper, more mature voice I hadn't known he'd possessed. "How are you, Miss--" he stopped. I looked familiar to him but he didn't know exactly from where. I leered at him, exposing every one of my steel teeth.

"Why don't you have a seat?" I suggested. "We can have a chat. Won't that be nice?"

"You!" he breathed, face going a sickly shade of green. I pushed out the other chair at my little table with one foot, nodding towards it invitingly.

"I'd like to have a word, if that would be all right." I went on in a more business-like tone. "Just you and me. I'll treat."

"But I have a date."

"Too bad. Now sit your butt down in this chair or I might get violent."

Twenty minutes later Mustang sipped on a fancy-sounding coffee drink while I was working on my second course of a shrimp and pasta concoction drenched in a cream and garlic sauce. "So, Roy..." I said after cluing him in more thoroughly on my current situation. "That's the way it stands. I head north tomorrow with that nutjob Kimbley."

"Something I'm curious about, Sp...Miss-"

"Spite." I corrected when he fumbled for something to call me. "I know 'Spite' sounds like a funny name, but it's mine. Yours sounds ridiculous, too. 'King', it means. I might as well called you 'Duke' or 'Prince' or 'Queen'." Roy winced.

"Please don't."

"Then call me Spite."

"All right, Spite. What I'm curious about is... you're really four hundred years old?"

"I've rounded." I said, taking a huge gulp of my smoothie and savoring the subsequent brain-freeze. "I was born to a different calendar. I don't remember exact dates. You can't, stuffed inside a little stone for centuries."

"I thought being so... _experienced_ would make you somehow less... less human." Roy admitted, swirling the dregs of his drink around in his mug. He looked tired, dark shadows under his eyes. His foot tapped in a half-hearted manner and he leaned back in his chair as if he needed all the support he could get. He seemed thinner to my eyes as well. "Maybe it's just your body. You look like a girl." I scowled.

"What _exactly_ is the different between a girl and a woman?" I wanted to know. "And, lemme warn you right now, I have enough trouble telling male from female. I know this body is 'young'. But what is 'young'? If you start laughing I'll rip out your trachea and strangle you with it."

Roy paused, searching for the right words. He rested his elbows on the table, chin set on his laced fingers. "Elena 'died' in Ishbal when she was seventeen years old." Roy said in an undertone. He hid the movement of his mouth so any spies couldn't read his lips. "In human terms, seventeen is the brink of womanhood. A seventeen-year-old, depending on the individual, is still more child than adult. You understand what a child is?" He wasn't mocking me. He spoke to me as if during a briefing. I shrugged.

"Chattering small humans with clumsy movements and chubby limbs? Sticky hands and whining? Yes. Elena got stuck enough with baby-sitting duty in Xing that I learned _something_ about children."

"So that body would still be considered as belonging to an adolescent. That is, a mature child but a young adult." Roy went on. "And, as you must know, it is a female body. Though you look older with that hair-cut and those clothes, you still could be teenager pretending to be a woman." I groaned.

"My first—and last—body was male. I don't remember masquerading as a human as being so tedious."

"There are its ups and downs." Roy said with a shrug. "I'm fine being the way I am."

"Was Elena fine?" I was drawing shapes in the leftover sauce on my plate with my fork. "Was she okay being the way she was?"

"I don't know." Roy said quietly. "I thought you would know that." I shrugged.

"I never really 'got' Elena. She was weird, you know? Mood-swingy and bitchy most of the time and then she'd be mopey for pretty much no reason whatsoever."

"Women will do that." Roy pointed out. "It's a thing they do to keep the rest of us on our toes."

We subsided into silence. "So, are you outfitted for going up north?" Roy asked pleasantly as if we were just two normal people having lunch. Well, he was still nursing his coffee and I had moved on to something called 'crepes'. "The north is a bad place for people with automail. They die within hours if unprepared."

"I'll be fine." I said around a mouthful of whipped cream, syrup, and strawberries. "Stone, 'member? Frostbite won't be a problem. What should I pack?"

He blinked.

"I beg your pardon?"

"What should I take with me? Clothing and junk?" I swallowed my last bite of dessert. "Because, seriously. Elena's closet is _barren_. Let's go shopping!"

He smiled incredulously at me, as if I was—what's that word?--pranking him. I jumped up, rummaging around in my bag for my wallet and leaving a wad of cash on the table.

"Are you serious?"

"Dead serious." I told him solemnly. "If you come with me and help me pick out clothes I might buy you something nice."

"I'm not a girlfriend!" he protested, but he stood up. I took a last swig of my iced tea and shoved my feet back into the shoes I had kicked off at the first opportunity.

"Then come on!" I grabbed his sleeve and tugged on it impatiently. Laughing and complaining with my occasionally tart comment, he allowed me to drag him into the nearest clothing shop.

While the colonel advised me on the latest trends and the clerk recommended the priciest items in a honeyed voice, I had to think, Was this what being human was? If so, it wasn't too bad. I wished I had the chance to get used to it.

Maybe another time.

* * *

A/N: Fluff chapter. I recently rescued a two-day-old kitten and he is running me ragged. He's almost three weeks old now, come Saturday. =D Such a big boy. He's a real cutie, too. But I still have schoolwork to do before the actual school year starts and I am waaaaaay behind. Sigh. Anyway, stuff actually happens in the next chapter. Until then!


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: I know I'm a bad person, so shut up. I haven't updated in months. The REASON is because back in July, a two-day-old kitten fell into my yard. FELL. So I've spent the last three months bottle-raising him. I haven't gotten enough sleep in those said three months so I am extremely tired and irritable. And school started. Woohoo. PreCalculus and chemisty. JOY.

* * *

I rubbed my gloved hands together irritably while sitting in Northern HQ's front waiting room. Damn it was cold! My boots were a size too big to allow for an extra few layers of socks, per Roy's advice. Instead of buying a very nice but very expensive coat of otter pelt, the colonel persuaded me to get a military issue parka lined with mink like they wear up in Briggs. I snuggled down deeper into the fuzzy hood, savoring the feeling of the oh-so soft fur against my cheeks.

While contemplating the benefits of being reincarnated as a mink, a soldier of North City HQ came to stand before me and saluted. "Lieutenant Colonel Marcoh!" he barked, standing at stiff attention. "Kimbley the Crimson Alchemist has just been admitted at a hospital at the base of the mountain."

I sat up, raising my eyebrows. "To a hospital?" I repeated. "Is he hurt?"

"In critical condition, ma'am. That's what our report says." the soldier said.

"Ugh, what an idiot. Get me a car. I want to have a talk with him." I stood up. I belatedly remembered to salute the soldier before he ran to summon a car. "Listen up!" I raised my voice to address the rest of the military personnel of North City Headquarters. "Things just got innerestin'. Scar has critically injured my colleague, the Crimson Alchemist. He is still at large, probably accompanied by a middle-aged black-haired man and a young foreign girl. Neither the old man nor the girl are to be harmed but you are to shoot Scar _on sight_. Do I make myself clear?" Hasty salutes and stiff nods were all I needed. "Good." If Scar was half the avenger I figured him to be, the small matter of snipers wouldn't be a problem for him. As for Doctor Marcoh and the little girl, they would be detained. Then I could spirit Marcoh away or something. I would plan it when the time came, all right? Thinking ahead too much is bad for digestion.

* * *

I'm not sure if I have expressed my hatred for hospitals before, but I really, _really_ hate them. They're near the top of my extremely long list of Things Spite Hates. They're too much like laboratories for my comfort. But I did get a chuckle when I was able to loom over Kimbley, face bloodlessly white and haggard and needles stuck in his arm.

"You look like shit on a stick." I said smugly. He rolled his eyes at me.

"And _you_ look rather elegant. And chilly." he replied in a raspy voice. My smile widened. Every breath must have hurt him _terribly_.

"Mister Kimbley, enough about _me_. Am I right in believing these reports that you let Scar beat you up?" I can't remember the last time I got to rub somebody's face in something. It felt like I'd been on the receiving end too much lately. The Crimson Alchemist muttered something that might have been a swear word and didn't answer. "What else did Scar do, Mister Kimbley? Or, more precisely, what did you NOT do?"

"I did not… apprehend him." He said in a tight, pained voice. Sweat beaded his face, skin looking remarkably like paper. I reached out and threaded my fingers through his. He looked up at me with borderline-delirium before he shuddered at the feel of ice-cold metal against his palm.

"Then _you_ will tell Father that you failed." I leaned down to hiss in his ear. "This was _your_ blunder. You fucked up. You got hurt. Scar got away with Doctor Marcoh."

"Not Marcoh." He closed his eyes since he couldn't turn his back on me like he normally would have. "Some other man. Not Marcoh." Pain made him open his eyes when my fingers tightened around his hand.

"_What!_"

"Not Marcoh." he repeated in a whisper. "Marcoh's heading north with a little girl. Scar with that other man was a diversion, I'm sure. Scar's drawing attention away from the doctor."

I uttered a curse in Xingese that would have had someone washing my mouth out with turpentine, emperor or no. I released Kimbley and spun away, coat swirling around my knees as a paced furiously. My heels click-clacked on the cold tile.

"Marcoh found something." I muttered. "Maybe not Marcoh, but Scar. It has to be something to do with alchemy. That's all anyone else is interested in right now. But what could it be? What's so important for them to split up? Why is Marcoh traveling with Scar in the first place, anyway? WHY?" **_WHY?_** I screamed in mental frustration, noticing not for the first time the disturbing lack of anyone screaming back at me to shut the hell up.

I suddenly straightened as the door opened without even a warning knock. A dark-skinned middle-aged man with graying hair stepped in. He wore a jovial smile that didn't quite reach his small eyes. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything?" he sad in a deep and paternal voice. "Miss Spite, how are you?" I flinched at the "Miss" bit. "And the Crimson Alchemist. I see you survived."

Kimbley seemed to be expecting him. "You're early." he croaked.

"I hoofed it up here as soon as I heard about last night. You had me worried, you know." Lieutenant General Raven chuckled benignly. Kimbley cracked a pained smile. He drew a hand out from under his blankets, alchemical tattoo on his palm standing out starkly against his papery white skin. He held two Philosopher's Stones between his fingers easily, like a child showing off his marbles.

"More worried about these, correct?"

Tension filled the room. Raven let out a gusty sigh. "Very well, then." he said. "Please finished your job."

"I'm afraid I'm in no real condition to--"

"Aha! Don't worry." Raven's jovial manner was back. An old man dressed for the cold with a bowler on his head appeared behind him. He doffed his hat to me, exposing an ugly gold tooth as he grinned. My lip curled in disgust as he gazed at me through cloudy spectacles. "I've brought along a doctor who can use alchemist. Using your stone, you should be ready to go in no time."

"Miss Spite." the doctor said in a thick, throaty voice. His eyes were greedy as he drank in my appearance. "An honor, to be sure."

"Quite." I said tightly, not even bothering to hide my distaste. "I shall leave you to it, then. Kimbley, General Raven." I nodded to the two men and attempted to slither out the door.

"Ah, Spite, a word if you please." Raven's huge hand closed on my wrist. Goosebumps raced down my spine. The lieutenant general could snap my wrist in a heartbeat, steel bones or no. For all his friendly affectations, he was a powerfully built man and very strong in a way I didn't like. We went out into the hall, Raven firmly closing the door to Kimbley's room. There wasn't a single nurse or orderly in sight.

"I've been hearing some disconcerting things about you lately, Miss Spite." He surveyed me from his great height like an uncle looking down upon a rambunctious niece. Not that I would know, of course. "You gave Father and Wrath quite a bit of trouble. Lieutenant Colonel Marcoh is really gone?"

"Yes." I said coolly. An utter lie. She _would_ be back. "It's only me in this body now."

"And I see you have been enjoying it." I stiffened as he reached out and fingered a lock of my new, glossy haircut. "Taking care of yourself better than Marcoh did, I believe. New clothes?"

"Of course. Elena's closet was barren." I scoffed, flicking his hand away from my hair. "Raven, please remember that I am _not_ a little girl, no matter what my body looks like." I looked up at him, my eyes flashing black sclera for a heartbeat before returning to their normal icy blue. "I am a four-hundred-year-old homunculus. Older than Envy, Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, and especially Wrath. I am 'Spite'. I was originally created to be the emperor of an ancient empire that expanded its territory to twice its original size while I was on the throne. Do not take liberties with me." He had grown very still. "You are a human, and therefore expendable."

"Ah. So is that how it is?" He drew back from me, hands folded behind his back. I gritted my teeth, my eyes hardening.

"You better believe it."


End file.
